“But whatever can he want with us; and why should he act in that queer way, as if he was afraid to come boldly up here, and talk with us?” the other said.
“Best way to find that out is for one or both of us to step out there, and interview him,” suggested Adrian; and acting on this hint both of them walked away from the glow of the fire near which they had been standing, heading toward the spot where the bulky figure of Billie could be dimly seen, making his mysterious motions.
[CHAPTER XXIV.—TREACHERY.]
“Now, what’s this all mean, Billie?” demanded Adrian, when they had joined the fat chum, where the shadows were dense enough to fairly conceal them from the view of any keen eyes nearer the fires.
“Yes,” added Donald, “you’ve gone and coaxed us over here, and now I hope it isn’t just to tell us you’ve got a pain, after stowing all that stuff away.”
“Oh! you needn’t ever bother about me getting a bad feeling after I’ve had my little share of rations,” Billie replied, sweetly; “but then, this don’t have anything to do with eating. But all the same it’s a thriller.”
“Well, speak up, and let us know what’s doing,” Adrian said.
“I was wondering whether Charley Moo could spare me just a teenty little more of that delicious stew, when he came and bent down to whisper something in my ear, while pretending to be taking my dish. And what do you think he said, fellows? Only that one of that bad bunch of punchers had been called in to talk things over with Mrs. Fred;
and that if I wanted to hear something of what they said Charley knew of a way it might be done, providing I could crawl like a snake.”
“This sounds real interesting, Billie,” remarked Donald.