“Ah! hum! yes! a box of tools! Bless my life, I wonder when that cab will be ready! Ah, here he comes,” impatiently exclaimed General Lyon, as Willet, who had gone after the cab, entered and reported it was ready.
The whole party entered the cab except one of the detectives, who, as usual, rode on the box beside the driver. This officer gave, as a general direction, the nearest route to Noirmont Heights. And the cabman took it.
As they left town the detective farther ordered:
“When we reach the foot of the heights, inquire for a cab that passed some twenty minutes before us; and then follow the road taken by that cab until you come up with it.”
The cabman touched his hat in acquiescence as they went on.
Just at that instant the report of fire-arms startled their ears, reverberating through the heights and echoed and re-echoed back from rock to rock.
“My——! we are too late!” exclaimed the General, in despair.
“Indeed I fear we are too late to prevent the duel, but we may be in time to succor the wounded,” added Dick.
“Can you see the smoke from that discharge of pistols?” inquired the detective on the box of the cabman beside him.
“No, sir, and if I could it would be hard to tell it now from the smoke of the hutters’ chimneys, or even from the mist of the morning.”