"Thot Muriel is a dandy, Frankie! Oi'm shtuck on his stoyle."
"He is no more than a boy. I wonder how he happened to appear at such an opportune moment?"
"Nivver a bit do Oi know, but it's moighty lucky fer us thot he did."
Frank fell to speculating over the providential appearance of the moonshiner chief. It was plain that Muriel must have known that something was happening, and he had signaled with the bugle to the Black Caps. In all probability, other executions had taken place beneath that very tree, for the young chief came there direct, without hesitation.
For nearly an hour they seemed to ride through the night, and then they halted. The boys were removed from the horses and compelled to march into some kind of a building.
After some moments, their hands were freed, and, tearing away the blindfolds, they found themselves in a low, square room, with no windows, and a single door.
With his back to the door, stood Muriel.
The light of a swinging oil lamp illumined the room.
Muriel leaned gracefully against the door, his arms folded, and his eyes gleaming where the lamplight shone on them through the twin holes in the sable mask.
The other moonshiners had disappeared, and the boys were alone in that room with the chief of the mountain desperadoes.