Chapter Thirty Four.
Trust for Trust.
“Some one found my gun and taking aim at me,” thought Nic, feeling thoroughly how bad a plan it was for any one to bring out a gun for self-defence and then leave it for an enemy to seize.
That watch kept upon the gun muzzle did not last many moments, for a rough, mocking voice said loudly:
“Well: come to take me? Here I am.”
“Leather!—I mean, I mean Frank Mayne,” cried Nic joyously, as he sprang to his feet; “found you at last!”
“Yes,” said the convict bitterly, “you have found me at last. Where are your men?”
“What men?” said Nic, staring.