“Here's a puzzler, old man,” said Dickey. “Why was not Ugo here to help Courant if he knew anything about the fellow's actions? By cracky, I don't believe Ugo knows anything about the Frenchman's find.”
“He owns Courant, body and soul!”
“That jacky is out for the hundred thousand francs, and he's working on his own hook this time, my boy. He's after the reward, and he's the only one that has been keen enough to find us out. Mark me, he is working alone.
“Sure, he is,” added Turk. “He's got no pardners in th' job, er he'd a' had em along to-night. S'pose he'd run into a gang like this alone if he had anybody t' fall back on? Not on your life. We're a mighty tough gang, an' he takes no chances with us if he's workin' fer anybody else.”
“We're not a tough gang!” wailed Lady Jane, in tears. “Oh, what will become of us!”
“The Lord only knows, if we fail to get both Dorothy and Courant,” said Quentin, in real anguish.
“They may be in Luxemburg by this time,” said Saxondale. “Gad, this is working in the dark!”
“That road down there don't go t' Luxemburg direct, m' lord,” quickly interposed Turk. “It goes off into th' hills, don't you remember? An' then out th' valley some place 'way to th' north. If he'd been goin' to th' city he'd 'a' taken th' road back here an' kep' from goin' down th' hill.”
“You're right, Turk,” exclaimed Lord Bob. “He has gone up the valley, headed for one of the little towns, and will steer clear of the Luxemburg officers for fear they may demand a part of the reward.”
“God, Saxondale, are those horses never coming?” fumed Quentin. “I won't wait!” and he was off like a madman through the gate and down the steep. Behind him tore Turk, the faithful.