Quickly the attention of the others was drawn to the speaker, who had unconsciously straightened to his full six feet, while the rich color in his cheeks, augmented by the ruddy glow of the firelight, deepened perceptibly, and quickly spread to his throat and neck, which were partly revealed in their robust outlines, where the heavy coat was thrown back to the warmth of the fire.
"Any special reasons for not wantin' to cut down the pole of the New Pike gate?" asked one of the band, with a wink on the sly at his companions.
"I have," answered Milt frankly and seriously. "One good reason I will state a little later, the other can be given right now. It seems a cowardly thing to do—the chopping down of a gate that's kept by two lone women. Now if it was a man, the case would be altogether different."
"It ain't the women folks we've got the grudge ag'in," spoke up one of the men. "It's the graspin' turnpike companies back of 'em we're after."
"Yes, but it's taking away the living of two worthy women," protested Derr.
"That can't be helped, though," argued the other raider. "If we're goin' to do away with toll-gates, an' have free roads, we can't play favorites, you know, by cuttin' down some poles, an' leavin' others standin', just on account o' family relations," he said.
"What's the talk?" The deep voice came from the outer gloom, and as the men glanced in its direction, the captain emerged from the shadows hovering close about the circle and joined the group.
An embarrassing silence fell suddenly upon the company, at the leader's presence, and each man waited for his neighbor to make reply. As no one seemed inclined to answer, finally Derr spoke.
"It was concerning the New Pike gate. Some one suggested that I would be chosen to do the cutting of the pole."
"Well!" The captain fixed his steel cold eyes full on the speaker, while the semblance of a sarcastic smile hovered about his mouth.