"There's no grain there," said Greer.
"I brought my grain with me," said Ambrose.
A sound like a chuckle escaped the boy. No doubt he was well-informed as to the situation. "You didn't lose much time," he said.
They started back to the mill, a breed on either side of Greer with a hand upon his shoulder.
"If you make a break, you'll be knocked down and carried in," warned
Ambrose.
Apparently Greer had no such intention. He was a matter-of-fact youth and prone to laughter. He laughed now. "Golly! the old man will be in a wax when he hears of it! How many men have you got?"
"Twenty-five," said Ambrose.
"Well, he can't blame me if I'm forced to work by overwhelming numbers!
Oh, golly! but there'll be a time to-morrow!"
Ambrose breathed more freely. This which had promised to be the most difficult part of his plan was proving easy.
Entering the mill, Greer looked around the dim place with its little crowd of still, silent, armed men, and chuckled again. "Darned if it isn't as good as a melodrama!" he said.