They heard him floundering toward them, while the other sounds grew fainter, until he emerged from the gloom close beside Frank and threw the bag at his feet.
"Give me your gun," he said shortly. "Stop where you are!"
He disappeared again, but in another moment they saw him raking in a clump of brush from which a pale light still flickered, after which he came back toward them with something blazing feebly in his hand.
"Bring the bag, and be careful how you walk," he said.
When they joined him he was stooping over a short strip of wire stretched across the trail about a foot above the ground, holding the pineknot so that the light fell upon it.
"I guess that's the reason I fell down," he said. "You didn't touch that fellow, Harry."
"I didn't mean to," was the answer. "I wanted to scare him off, and I was mighty thankful when I saw I'd done it."
"Well," said Mr. Webster, "I expect that was wiser. It would have made things worse for your father if you'd plugged him. Anyway, they've cleared and we may as well get on."
"Aren't you hurt?" Frank inquired.
"There's a nasty rip on my leg and my arm feels mighty sore, but that's all the damage. Seems to me I haven't much to complain of, considering how far I fell."