The driver and the New Englander were too much engaged at that moment to pay any heed to the youths, who were in such desperate haste to get away from the spot that they dashed among the trees at the imminent risk of seriously bruising themselves.
After pressing forward until they were nearly out of breath, they came to a halt in the depths of the wood for consultation. They had managed to reach a point some distance from the highway, where they felt safe for the time.
“It’s lucky we were cool enough to bring our guns with us,” was the bright remark of McGovern, “or there’s no telling what might have happened.”
“Do you think those robbers will follow us, Jim?”
“Of course they will; you don’t suppose they want us to testify in court against them and have them hanged, do you?”
“But we didn’t see them plain enough to know them again.”
“That don’t make any difference,” was the brilliant reply, “for I would know that fellow’s voice among a thousand.”
“I guess maybe you’re right; it won’t do for us to go back to the road, for we would be sure to run against them.”
“No; we’ll push on through the woods till we come out somewhere. If we were only acquainted with the country we would know what to do, but there’s no saying where we’ll fetch up.”
At such times a person feels safer while in motion, and, though the young men had no more idea of the points of the compass than if adrift in mid-ocean, they pressed on, impelled by their anxiety to place all the space possible between themselves and the stage-robbers, who, they believed, numbered three at least.