“Hurry! Let’s run!” Florence breathed.
To Florence’s consternation, Jo Ann darted straight up the path. Just before reaching the top she halted and peered cautiously in the direction of the men’s voices, then scurried silently back.
Together the two ran up the gully, not even halting when thorns tore Florence’s skirt and scratched a red gash in one of Jo Ann’s legs.
“Those men must’ve said something terrible to scare Florence this way,” Jo Ann thought as she ran. “All I could make out were the words ‘money’ and ‘thief.’”
On the two rushed, with only a hurried glance backward now and then.
When at last, panting and puffing, they reached the road, Jo Ann gasped, “What’d—they say?”
“The first one said—‘he’s a thief—cheating us—I’m going to kill him.’”
“Wh-ew!” Jo Ann ejaculated while Florence was catching her breath. “The other—what’d he say?”
“He said, ‘I’ll help—you kill him.’ Then he said—something about some packages weighing more than his enemy had paid them for.”
“Did he say what was in the packages?”