Bob flattened out as close to the ground as he could get and lay tense, while the outlaw gazed suspiciously at the bushes amid which he was concealed.
“What’s the matter, Blackie?” called one of the gang. “Did you think you heard somethin’?”
“I know I did!” exclaimed the other. “But I suppose it was only some animal prowling around.”
“Bein’ alone in this shack has got on your nerves, maybe,” taunted one of the gang.
“Nerves, my eye!” exclaimed the other. “I don’t own such things! But I’ve got a notion to take a look through those bushes, anyway,” and he started in Bob’s direction.
“Come on back, Blackie,” urged another of the gang. “We can’t be foolin’ around here all day. Be yourself, can’t you?”
The others chimed in to the same effect, and their leader reluctantly abandoned his search and returned to the cabin. Had he gone another twenty feet he would inevitably have discovered Bob, who had been on the point of springing to his feet and giving battle. It was a narrow escape, and the radio boys heaved sighs of relief as the door of the cabin closed on the formidable figure of the leader. They knew that these men were desperate criminals, heavily armed, who would not hesitate at murder to avoid capture.
Bob resumed his advance, an inch at a time, and at length reached the edge of the clearing. Before him lay a stretch of perhaps twenty feet of open ground, and should one of the desperados chance to open the door while he was crossing this space, discovery would be certain. However, this was a chance that Bob knew he must take, and without hesitation he sprang to his feet and ran swiftly but silently toward the cabin.
Fortunately he reached it unobserved, and crouched close to the wall beneath one of the little windows. There were numerous cracks in the side of the rude structure, and he had no difficulty in hearing what was going on inside.
The crooks were engaged in a heated debate, but soon the voice of their leader spoke out commandingly and the others fell silent.