But before the weapon could descend Late moved, and the man, lowering the blade, shrank back a little, waiting for the boy to sink into slumber again.
Instead of quieting down, Late stretched out one of his long arms, striking the intruder in the face, and knocking him over. Both lad and man were on their feet in an instant, one seeking to grapple with the other, but the stranger, too quick for the young scout, arose and disappeared in the darkness.
Joe, aroused by the brief struggle, sprang up crying loudly:
“What is it, Late?”
“Some one crept in here to steal or to kill,” was the reply as the speaker darted out of the shack to peer through the gloom, hoping to see or hear something of the fugitive.
But all was still, and, satisfied that the intruder had made good his escape, he turned to Joe, “I awoke suddenly, an’ felt, rather than saw, a man on his knees ’tween you an’ me. I swung my arm ’round an’ knocked him over, an’ ’fore I could grab him he vanished. If it wan’t for the ache in my arm where I whacked him, I should think I’d been dreamin’.”
“I don’t ’spose it’s safe to light a torch,” his companion whispered.
“No, it might give him the very chance he’s waitin’ for, an’ we better have our guns ready, in case he sends a bullet this way.”
They seized the rifles and sat motionless a long while, but the forest was as silent as if they alone were in it. At length Late stepped softly out under the trees until he could get a view of the stars, when he went back to his comrade, saying:
“It isn’t much more than midnight now, Joe. Lie down an’ get what sleep you can. I’ll call you in ’bout two hours to take a spell of standin’ guard.”