Across the Bridge
As I staggered behind the pursuers I saw the tall, erect figure of Quintus glide rapidly across the road and disappear down the decline. In the briefest space we were at the crest by the road, looking down upon the pond. I saw Moore and O'Brien by my side—the latter swearing like a trooper.
"Who is that Mr. Clark, anyway? How did he know who I was? Since Hallen's men found me at the farm-house this man Clark—this agent—has had a lot to say."
"He is a man by the name of Oakes," I said.
O'Brien, or rather Larkin, looked at me a moment.
"Quintus Oakes?"
"The same."