"Why, Green! Green! They're off!" cried Cyril, who was already on his feet. "They're off!"
"Off! Leaving us!"
Green could scarcely believe his eyes. Instead of coming up to seize them the pursuers were galloping away.
"Oh! Look, look!" Cyril pointed in another direction.
A little company of horsemen had entered the sandy plain, and were riding rapidly towards them.
"They've scared our enemies. Aye, but we'd better be off too," cried Green in alarm.
"But we needn't run away from these men," said Cyril. "They are our friends."
"Friends? Not they! I should have a bad time of it if they caught me," said Green. "You see, they're Government men on the look-out for train-robbers and horse-stealers. Jack was a stolen horse. They'd make short work once they laid hands on me. Come on, lad." He caught hold of Cyril's hand and set off running back towards the forest.
"But, Green, stop. Let us tell them all. You are no outlaw now. You can say you have done with all that sort of thing—that you are repentant!" protested Cyril as they ran.
"That would make no difference. They'd punish me for what I've done already."