“I want ’em to think we’re hiding in there,” she explained hurriedly. “Can you run now?”
“You bet!”
They sped along the edge of the wood, spurred by the thought that the ruse would delay their pursuers and perhaps throw them off the trail altogether. From their rear came the sound of a rough voice issuing commands. Men were beating the underbrush, cursing in the darkness.
Both Dorothy and Bill had got their second wind and were running much more easily now. Then Dorothy tripped on the uneven ground and would have fallen had not Bill thrust out a steadying hand.
“Thanks,” she said jerkily as she ran. “Look over my shoulder. Lights back there.”
“Wonder they didn’t use ’em before,” was Bill’s only comment.
Dorothy slowed down to a fast walk and Bill also slackened his pace.
“We must be nearly there,” she panted, “though since we had to drop the gasoline, there doesn’t seem much use hiking over to the plane.”
Bill nodded in the darkness. “Think we’d better get back to the house?”
“Yes; they’ll never see us, especially now that they’ve got their flashlights going—that glare will blind them. I vote we keep on along the valley until we pass the wood road, then swing across this pasture again and up the hill till we strike the road. That will take us back to the Conway place and—”