Fred Sheldon sprang up from his hiding-place in the grass, almost before the drover vaulted over the fence, and ran across the meadow in the manner he did when he believed the wandering lion was at his heels.
Cyrus Sutton seemed to be confused for the minute, as though he had scared up some strange sort of animal, and he stared until the dark figure began to grow dim in the distance.
Even then he might not have said or done anything had not Bud Heyland heard the noise and come clambering over the fence after him.
"Why don't you shoot him?" demanded Bud; "he's a spy that has been listening! Let's capture him! Come on! It will never do for him to get away! If we can't overhaul him, we can shoot him on the fly!"
The impetuous Bud struck across the lot much the same as a frightened ox would have done when galloping. He was in dead earnest, for he and Sutton had been discussing some important schemes, which it would not do for outsiders to learn anything about.
He held his pistol in hand, and was resolved that the spy should not escape him. The skurrying figure was dimly visible in the moonlight, but in his haste and excitement Bud probably did not observe that the object of the chase was of very short stature.
Sutton kept close beside Bud, occasionally falling a little behind, as though it was hard work.
"He's running as fast as we," said Sutton; "you had better hail him."
Bud Heyland did so on the instant.
"Hold on there! Stop! Surrender and you will be spared! If you don't stop I'll shoot!"