“You must remember that I have nothing but Springer’s word for all this,” continued George, “and Springer is a rascal, who would just as soon tell a lie as eat a good dinner. I shall satisfy myself of the truth of his story before I make any move in the matter.”
“Well, keep your eyes open and look out for treachery while you are doing it,” said Mr. Gilbert. “It is my opinion that you would be safer anywhere in the world than you are here in Texas. If I were in your place, and was determined to let Uncle John stay where he is, I would go off somewhere and stay until I became of age. Listen! What’s that?” exclaimed Mr. Gilbert, holding up his finger warningly.
The clatter of hoofs on the hard trail came faintly to their ears. It grew louder every instant, and presently a couple of horsemen galloped around the building at full speed and drew rein beside the porch in front of the lighted windows of the office.
“Hallo, the house!” came the hail, in stentorian tones.
George sprang to his feet, and his face grew as pale as death.
“There they are!” he exclaimed, in an excited whisper.
“I was in hopes they would not come until you were well on your way home,” said Mr. Gilbert, in the same low whisper. “It wouldn’t be safe for you to fall into their hands.”
“I don’t care for myself,” replied George. “But, Mr. Gilbert, if you don’t do something for Ned now——”
“Don’t get excited. Stay in here and trust to me. I have seen persons in tight places before to-night, and I know just what you want me to do.”
George found a world of encouragement in these words. He sank back on the lounge again, while Mr. Gilbert hurried out of the office, locking the door behind him. George heard him pass along the hall and open the door that led to the porch.