“It is a flag of truce,” said Merry.
“Look out, Frank!” exclaimed Bart. “It may be a trick.”
Merry rose and stood on a mound of bowlders, drawing out his own handkerchief and waved it in return.
“What are you going to do?” asked Hodge.
“I am going to find out what they are up to,” was the answer.
“I tell you it may be a trick.”
“We will see.”
The man in the distance with the flag of truce immediately advanced alone. Barely had he walked out into full view when Merry said:
“It is Macklyn Morgan, or my eyes are no good!”
“Old Joe he fix um,” said the aged Indian, carefully thrusting his rifle over the rocks and preparing to take aim.