"Safe for a minute or two at least," he whispered as the crunching footsteps were lost to the ear. "They won't come back this way, dear."
"They had guns, Jack!" she whispered, terrified.
"I don't understand it, hanged if I do," he said, pulling his brows into a mighty scowl. "They are after us like a pack of hounds. It must mean something. Lord, but we seem to have stirred up a hornet's nest!"
"Oh, dear, I wish we were safely at—" she paused.
"At home?" he asked quickly.
"At Bracken's," she finished; and if any of the pursuers had been near enough he might have heard the unmistakable suggestion of a kiss.
"I feel better," he said, squaring his shoulders. "Now, let me think. We must outwit these fellows, whoever they are. By George, I remember one of them! That old fellow who bought the horse is with them. That's it! The horse is mixed up in this, I'll bet my head." They sat upon the ground for several minutes, he thinking deeply, she listening with her pretty ears intent.
"I wonder if they've left anybody to guard our boat?" he said suddenly. "Come on, Marjory; let's investigate! By George, it would be just like them to leave it unprotected!"
Once more they were moving cautiously through the brush, headed for the river. Mr. Jack Barnes, whoever he was and whatever his crime, was a resourceful, clever young man. He had gauged the intelligence of the pursuers correctly. When he peered through the brush along the river bank he saw the skiff in the reeds below, just as they had left it. There was the lunch basket, the wee bit of a steamer trunk with all its labels, a parasol and a small handbag.