Stark was apprehensive, but Crauthers was shaking with eagerness, being seized by an intense longing to join in the attack on Arlington.
As they waited, the approaching person whistled again.
“He’s crossing the tree-bridge!” palpitated Crauthers. “Bunol will be sure to be waiting for him when he reaches the ground on this side. Keep quiet!”
They did not have to wait long. Soon they heard the sound of a sudden struggle, a muffled, broken cry, and a heavy fall. Their hearts beat painfully after a period of shocked stillness, and it was not without difficulty that they breathed.
The night wind passed over the woods like a sigh.
Hogan started to say something in a whisper, but he was checked, and they waited yet a little longer. Then the voice of Miguel Bunol, soft and steady, called to them.
“Come out and see how I keep my word,” it said. “I prove to you I do not lie.”
Still they hesitated.
“What do you suppose the fool has done?” muttered Stark apprehensively. “I hope it’s nothing serious.”
He was the first of the remaining trio to creep forth from the Den. The others followed him, and they found Bunol waiting in the path.