“I’m taking no chances that you shall fall into the hands of those scoundrels,” he declared, sternly. “They may succeed in reaching this spot. You must not be here; you must go.”
Taking each by an arm he piloted them to the car.
“Sorry, but it has to be,” he added. “This is work for men, and men alone.”
Janet and Mary climbed up into the seat.
“You––you will take care of yourself,” Janet said, tremulously.
“I expect to. Still, this isn’t going to be a croquet party; anything may happen. Good-by.”
With that he swung about and breaking into a run made for a small building half-buried in the hillside and apart from the camp. There he stooped and picked up under each arm what looked like a cylinder of some size and went down towards the dam. For a time they could see him, but all at once he slipped behind an outcrop of rock and they saw him no more.
Janet turned to eye her companion. Once more her face was pale.
“Well?” she inquired of Mary.