"But he wasn't when you released Jimmie," Jack suggested.
"He will be before the final card is laid down," Ned replied. "But come," he went on, "we must be moving if we get to the cottage before the trouble begins."
"I'm all in the dark," Jack said, "but I'm willing to take your judgment now."
Ned and Jack hastened away, traveling down the slope to the west and south so as to get to the cottage in the quickest possible time. When they came in sight of the structure they saw Mary Brady sitting in the doorway, her head bent forward, her face buried in the palms of her hands.
She arose at the sound of their footsteps and advanced with outstretched hands to meet them. There were tears on her face and her manner was excited.
"You came too late!" she cried, wringing Ned's hand. "They have taken him away."
"When?" asked Ned, leading the old lady into the cabin.
"Oh, I don't know when! Sometime in the night. I awoke and saw that the bed was empty and called to Bradley. He arose and has been looking for him ever since."
"He was just up at our camp—looking!" Ned said, with a wink at Jack.
The old lady now went to a cupboard and brought forth a glass in which a dark fluid rested. A small black brush stood against the side of the vessel.