“I ain’t got a great deal of money with me, but I’ll be ding-wizzened if I won’t bet fifty dollars that Leo is in that gang!” said the Yankee, producing his pocketbook in a matter-of-fact way.
“I have not got any money, and if I had I would not bet with you,” returned Jones. “I am of the same opinion as you. Let us advance toward them; we can get near enough to see just who and what they are without being observed ourselves.”
“Agreed!” exclaimed Prof. Easy; whereupon they set out in the direction of the approaching torchlights.
As they gradually neared them, they saw that there were about thirty persons marching along, dragging some heavy concern behind them, and carrying torches.
“Do you know what I am a-goin’ ter do?” said Martin Haypole, coming to a halt. “I am a-goin’ ter fire off my revolver an’ prove that Leo Malvern is in that crowd.”
In an instant he had drawn his revolver and fired a shot.
The echo of the report had scarcely died out when there was an answering one from the approaching torch bearers.
“Great boots!” yelled the Yankee, jumping about three feet in the air; “what did I tell you?”
Then he opened wide his mouth and led his companions in a deafening cheer.