“I’m afraid there is sure to be shooting as soon as Bob sees me,” said Lockwood. He shrunk from going aboard that fatal house boat again. “All right; I’ll go along. But I’d better keep back where they won’t see me unless it’s necessary.”
“Bring a gun,” the boy advised. “And what about Hanna?”
“There’ll be no trouble with Hanna, if you stand by me. He’ll have to give up all he’s got from you. He’s got the money put away somewhere. Everything’ll be all right then.”
“What do you get out of it?” the boy grinned a little. “I reckon I know what you’re hopin’ to get.”
“I reckon you do.”
“Well, if it all turns out as you say, you’ll sure deserve to get it.” He reflected, dismissing this triviality from his mind. “I s’pose we might as well do as you say, an’ get it over. I could meet you here at the motor boat. No, we’d better take the car. The road’s bad, but I could drive it with my eyes shut, I’ve been over it that often. The place is only about two miles, an’ I’ll blow for Bob from there.”
“Can you meet me somewhere? I can’t come here.”
“I’ll get you at the camp. The road goes down that way. I’ll be there about nine o’clock. And say!” he added, with a last suspicion, “if there’s anything crooked about this, you an’ me don’t both come back alive!”
Lockwood was waiting a long time before nine o’clock, walking slowly up the trail as he waited, until he reached the main road. He was afraid that Jackson would not come after all. He was relieved and almost surprised when he saw the lights of the car glaring down the road toward him.
“Glad you come up here,” said Jackson, stopping. “We’ll do better to go round a little. This woods is no good after a rain.”