At the moment of doing so, his foot struck something hard. He knew what it was, and, stooping down, picked up a large stone, which he held tightly grasped in his hand. Such a weapon was very formidable in the grip of a vigorous boy, who could throw with the skill and accuracy of Ben Mayberry.
The lad had scarcely halted when he caught the tip, tip of his pursuer, who was evidently determined to overtake him before he reached the lighted regions beyond. Ben was astonished just then, to note that a second person was just approaching from the opposite direction in the same guarded fashion.
“It must be there are two of them,” was the sensible conclusion of the boy; “they have agreed to meet here, where I wouldn’t have much show against them.”
It followed that the party of the second part was waiting for the coming of young Mayberry, doubtless with the understanding that his partner in crime should follow him to a certain point near at hand, when the two would close in on him.
Ben had never suspected any such conspiracy as this, and, had he gone a little further, he would have walked directly into the arms of the second ruffian, while peering behind him at the shadowy villain who “still pursued him.”
But the lad had stopped short and disconcerted the plans of the conspirators by so doing. The one who was lying in wait was quick to miss the boy whom he had seen cross the bridge, and, suspecting something was wrong, he hastened stealthily toward the creek to learn the explanation.