Five minutes later the young chief heard halting footsteps that struck his ear as being rather stealthy. Someone, from camp, was heading that way. Stealth in the other’s movements made Reade draw himself back into the shadow.
’Gene Black halted not far from the tree. Turning back toward the camp, the fellow shook his fist violently in that direction.
“He’s certainly thinking of me,” grimaced Reade.
“You young cub, you may laugh for a day or two more!” muttered Black, with another shake of his fist.
“If that’s meant for me, I’m much obliged, I’m sure,” thought Reade. “Laughing is always a great pleasure for me.”
“It’s your turn now,” continued Black, in the same low, passionate tone, “but I’ll soon have you blocked—-or else under the sod!”
“Oho!” reflected the young acting chief engineer, not without a slight shudder. “Is assassination in the plans of the people behind ’Gene Black’s treachery? Or is putting me under the sod merely an addition that Black has made for his own pleasure?”
The plotter, still unaware of the eavesdropper, had now turned and was walking down the trail. He was now so far from camp that he did not need to be soft-footed.
Out of the shadow, after a brief pause, stole Tom Reade.
“If Black is going to meet anyone tonight I’d better be near to the place of meeting. I might hear something that would teach me just what to do to checkmate the plotters against us.”