“Don’t think I had any part in this!” he muttered. “I was double-crossed by that swine, Rascomb!”
“You delivered us both into his hands,” Flash agreed bitterly. “Maybe now you’re willing to believe what I told you about him.”
“I’ve been a dumb ox, all right.”
“If you had only listened—”
“Hey, no talk!” ordered the man behind them. “Keep quiet!”
A few yards farther up the road he commanded the pair to turn into a path on their right. It led through dense woods to a small log cabin. Blinds covered all the windows, but a crack of light shining from beneath one of them, gave evidence of occupancy.
Keeping his revolver trained upon Flash and Doyle, the chauffeur rapped twice on the door.
Almost at once it was opened by a burly man whose fleshy face looked hard and cruel in the dim light.
“You took long enough getting here!” he said gruffly.
“Made it as quick as I could,” the chauffeur answered. “You can go now. I’ll take over.”