“So you have got here at last, eh?” he snarled. “I’m glad to find you didn’t hurry yourselves any. I thought I sent you a wireless message to get here early.”
“So you did, chief,” spoke up one of the newcomers. “But we couldn’t get here no sooner.”
“You couldn’t?” snapped the other. “Why couldn’t you?”
“We got word that one of the government radio inspectors was at the lumber camp, so we had to come here by the long way. We were afraid he might recognize one of us if we happened to bump into him.”
“Well, the cops have photoed all of you so often that I don’t wonder you’re shy,” sneered the leader. “But come on inside. There’s no use of standing chinning here.”
Two of the men muttered sullenly to themselves, but ceased abruptly as the leader’s frowning gaze fell on them. They all shuffled into the cabin, and the black-moustached man shut the door with a bang.
“Say,” whispered Bob, “we’ve got to listen in on this pow-wow, fellows. I’m going to sneak up to the window and try to hear what they’re saying. They must have some purpose in meeting here like this.”
“Well, be mighty careful, Bob,” said Joe anxiously. “They’re a tough crowd, and we’ve got to watch our step. If they discover you, head for here, and if we can’t get away we’ll put up a battle.”
“If I have any kind of luck, they won’t discover me,” Bob assured him. “Just sit tight, and I’ll be back in a jiffy.”
Very cautiously he crept through the underbrush toward the cabin. In spite of all his care a branch snapped under him and the second time the door was flung wide and the ill-favored leader of the gang stepped out and peered about him.