At that very instant quick steps were heard outside, and then a “peculiar knock” was given on the door, which, prudently or imprudently, Steve had shut.
“It is a man who lives with me,” Hiram Monk said to the hunters. “We shall be interrupted for a few minutes, but then I will go on.” Then aloud: “You may as well come in, Jim.”
If this was intended as a warning to flee, it was not heeded, for the door opened, and a man whom Will and Marmaduke recognized as the rogue who on the previous day had feigned a mortal wound in order to steal their deer, strode into the hut.
On seeing the hut full of armed men, he sank down hopelessly, delivered a few choice ecphoneses, and then exclaimed: “Caught at last! Well, I might ’a’ known it would come sooner or later. They have set the law on my track, and all these fellows will help ’em. Law behind, and what on earth in front!—I say, fellows, who are you?”
“Hunters,” Henry said laconicly.
Then the new-comer recognized Will and Marmaduke, and ejaculated, “Oh, I see; yesterday my ring was ruined, and now I’m ruined!”
The officer of the law, whose nonchalance had provoked the hunters in the forenoon, was indeed behind, and soon he, also, entered the hut, which was now filled.
“Just like a romance,” Steve muttered. “All the characters, good and bad, most unaccountably meet, and then a general smash up takes place, after which the good march off in one direction, to felicity, and the bad in another, to infelicity—unless they shoot themselves. Now, I hope Hiram and Jim won’t shoot themselves!”
“Jim Horniss,” said the officer, “I am empowered to arrest you.”