"Th' leetle satan isn't hyur. He's got 'way, boyees! Look clus thet he don't escape!"
Anxious to know what had been the fate of poor Jack, the postboy did not dare to remain a moment where he was. As long as the mail was in his hands he was in duty bound to look to its safety above everything else.
Accordingly, he fled along the path at the top of his speed, and he was a pretty good runner, too. The sounds of his enemies were soon lost to hearing, and he pursued his way without interruption until he felt certain he must be near Hollow Tree, when he slackened his gait.
As he came in sight of the singular post office, he saw that a light was burning within, by which he knew the postmaster was there.
Then the sound of voices fell on the stillness of the evening, and surprised to hear his own name mentioned, he paused just outside the roughly made door.
"There is one thing certain," Dan Shag was saying, "he is out o' th' way now."
"And there ain't no danger of his taking off being laid to our door," said another, by whose voice Little Snap recognized Morton Meiggs, one of his bondsmen.
"Cert. Them air Acreites hes done us one good turn, an' I feel it is our duty to pay 'em fer it."
"I wouldn't advise you to say too much about that. They'll be likely to ask for more'n we can allow them. "Say, that was an audacious movement. I wonder how old Warfield felt when he heard of Dix Lewis' fate?"
"I dunno. Thet man beats me. He hes promised to stand by me, but I ain't more faith in him than I hev in thet light's burning all night."