"Hadn't we better place the horses in the woods and investigate?"
"No, we'll take the horses along, and if there is trouble, we'll use our pistols," answered Tom firmly.
They advanced with caution, and soon came to where the road made a turn westward. Tom uttered an exclamation of surprise, and not without good reason.
"Man—on the road—flat on his face!"
"Is he a spy?"
"Is he dead?"
"I don't know," answered Tom. "Go slow—we may be running into a trap."
They advanced with caution. Not another soul seemed to be in sight, and presently they stood over the man. He was breathing heavily.
"Looks like a planter," observed Fred, noticing the apparel the stranger wore. "What's the matter with him?"
"Perhaps he was shot. Let us turn him over."