“Way over t’other side, not sech a long ways from the Gap,” Eb answered readily. “He comes an’ goes by cross-cuts, but ye better stick to the road. Ye turn into the Clove road down past the schoolhouse, keep on till ye’ve crossed the crick twice—it sorter wanders round an’ ther’s bridges acrost—an’ then ther’s a kind of a wood-road bearin’ off to yer right. Go up that an’ ye’ll find Snake’s house. Ye’ll be ’bout the onliest comp’ny thar. Nobody visits much with Snake.”
They were turning into the dooryard before the house now, Bill and Ward morosely eyeing the road and trying to fix in mind the unfamiliar turns as described by Uncle Eb. Douglas stole a glance beyond them. One side of the barn roof was in plain sight now. And on that side, a quarter of the way down, was Steve.
Hugging the shingles, he was craftily working eavesward from the ridge to which he had clung. With bare toes and flattened hands holding him from too sudden a slip down the pitch, he was sliding himself lower and lower on his stomach. When he should reach the eaves, it would be only a matter of a short drop to the ground and a quick jump around the corner, and he would be out of sight. But if his pursuers should happen to look that way now——
“Look here,” Douglas said quickly, stooping and tracing a line with his gun-butt, “here’s the road. Now you go down this way, and then——”
Moving the weapon, keeping his eyes glued to his crude map, he talked on, holding their attention. They followed every move. And behind them the ragged figure on the barn roof descended until its feet hung out over the eaves. There it hesitated an instant, balancing itself for the final slip and drop.
Douglas dared not look. Playing for time, he appealed to Uncle Eb for information regarding some fictitious road which might branch off before the right one should be reached. Eb’s eyes were crinkled with amusement, for he saw that the younger man was inventing most of his road-map; but he kept his face straight, disputed a couple of turns, and put down a gnarled finger to make a new section of the course.
Bill began to stir impatiently. His eyes wandered.
“Yeah, we’ll git there,” he broke in. “Come on, Ward.”
“When you get there, look out for snakes!” warned Douglas, striking for his wandering attention. He got it. Bill faced him again.
“Snakes! Whatcha mean?”