There were several tough-looking men standing about, and from their ready sympathy, real or feigned, it was easy to be seen that these men, too, like the others of the underworld, stood ready to do Paul's slightest bidding, to guard him with their lives if need be.
What was this strange power that this man, scarcely more than a youth, wielded over these outlawed men?
"Quick!" exclaimed Dora. "Watch the window. We've probably been followed."
A grim-visaged man moved lumberingly over to the window and glued his head against the pane, straining his eyes as he peered out.
For a long time he did not move, while, with the others grouped around, Dora tried to stanch the flow of blood from Paul's injured head.
Suddenly the watcher at the window turned and shouted, "Man comin' up the lane!"
Instantly there was confusion within the shack. The men scattered in all directions, while one old hag, the only woman in the shack besides Dora, hobbled over to a stool and took up the mending of a huge net where she had left off.
Old Tom ambled over to Dora and for a moment they talked hurriedly. Finally Dora came to a decision, as she pointed to the old rickety stairway to an attic above.
"Carry him to the attic," she directed. "He can be well hidden there. As for the rest of you, remember, no one has come here to-night."
Two of the men lifted Paul, who, while not in an absolutely unconscious condition, was much too weak by this time from loss of blood to assist himself.