Mr. Webster, so far as Frank could make out, was gazing at the man nearest him in astonishment.
"Well," he said sharply, "what do you want?"
"The mail," answered the other. "Stop right where you are!"
Then the meaning of the situation dawned on Frank. At that moment he saw Mr. Webster scramble forward to intercept the man who was making for the bag. The latter, however, was nearer it, and he had crept almost up to it while Mr. Webster was still several yards away. Without a moment's hesitation, Frank sprang out into the flickering light.
"Keep back!" he shouted. "Don't touch that bag!"
The radiance fell upon the barrel of his gun, and the next moment Harry emerged from the gloom with his rifle thrust forward. They decided afterward that the strangers could only have seen two indistinct figures with weapons in their hands and that there was nothing to indicate that they were not grown men.
"Hold him up!" shouted Mr. Webster, scrambling forward furiously as if to seize the man.
The latter stooped swiftly and made a grab at the bag as Frank pitched up his gun, though he kept the muzzle of it turned a little from the bent figure, but just then Harry's rifle flashed behind him and there was sudden darkness as the light fell into a thicket. Confused sounds followed the detonation, but it became evident to Frank, now quivering with excitement, that three separate persons were smashing through scrubby undergrowth as fast as they could manage. Then one of them stopped while the rest went on.
"Have you got the bag?" cried Harry.
"It's in my hand," said Mr. Webster.