“Prove it now!” urged Crauthers. “This is your chance!”
“How?”
“Go out there and lay for him in the darkness. When he comes along, soak him! That’s the way to do it! I dare you to do it—I dare you!”
“I’ll do it!” declared Miguel, at once, “Put out fire so he will not see. Quick!”
Crauthers dashed aside the brands with his foot and began to stamp them out.
“Hold on!” urged Stark. “I don’t know about this business. Better be careful, or we’ll all get into——”
“He can’t prove a thing. If he’s alone, we are four to his one. If he is bringing any one here, it’s right to meet him and give it to him. Go on, Bunol.”
Crauthers ground the dying embers beneath his feet, and the interior of the Den was plunged into darkness, save for the faint glow of a few coals.
“You wait!” whispered Bunol, as he crouched to creep forth. “You see now how much friend I am to him! I prove it to you! I get even with him!”
He still retained the club he had caught up from the pile of wood.