"We were crazy for waiting so long!" complained Deveril. "Hurry!"
In the dugout Gallup was saying slowly, after his ponderous fashion:
"I'll go get him his water. After that, like you say, Jim, he'll open up—wide! Or, if he don't, I'll break his jaw-bone with my boot heel.... Where's a can?"
Already Babe Deveril had wormed his way out of the willows and began creeping about the edge of the tiny thicket that was farthest from Joe's cabin. Lynette, feeling weak and sick, followed him like his own shadow. Thus they skirted the brushy fringe of the spring.
Then Gallup, carrying his can, came out. Deveril dropped flat and lay motionless, his body hidden, at least to careless eyes, by the spring willows. Lynette dropped flat just behind him. She knew that again Deveril was ready to leap and strike, mercilessly hard, if Gallup came too near. It was almost an even chance whether Gallup would come their way or not.... Lynette, cold and tired and hungry and at last afraid, shivered.
But, almost immediately, it became obvious to both of them that Gallup had been here before and knew his way about. He turned, as they had hoped that he would, to the right; they heard him reach the spring and dip his pan and fill it and turn back to the dugout, slopping water after him. They saw him step on the threshold; already Deveril was crawling cautiously again, and, after him, Lynette.
It was like life in a nightmare. So tortuously slow. So great a need for quiet, and, like jeering, mocking voices, there came so many little sounds, loud in their ears—twigs snapping, leaves rustling, tiny stones set rolling. At first, what with the dark and her sole thought to be gone, Lynette failed to understand just how Deveril was directing his course. When she did grasp, she wondered at him. Instead of hurrying straight across the clearing toward the haven of the timber-line, he was drawing nearer and nearer the west end of the dugout! Now she dared not whisper to him; she could not come up with him to catch warningly at his boot. So she followed, striving with all her caution to overtake him. And before she could do so, she glimpsed his purpose.
True to type, Joe's dugout had but the one door, and the rear of the building was a sort of timbered hole in the mountainside. Deveril planned that if he could gain the back of the dugout he could hear what was going on and run little danger of being detected; further, that in that direction, did he elect to up and run for cover, he and Lynette would have as good a chance as any to get away in the rim of the forest. If they moved with all possible silence, and especially if Taggart and the others within kept up their noise-making, snapping and snarling and knocking things about, it was more than an even break that neither Taggart nor any of his companions would come to suspect that they were being spied upon; and when did Babe Deveril ever ask more than the even break? Then ... there remained one other consideration, one of exceedingly great importance in Deveril's estimation, of which as yet Lynette had no inkling: while in hiding down by the spring Deveril had made a discovery, or believed that he had, and no opportunity had been given him either to speak of it or yet to investigate.
Clearly now was the moment when Taggart and Gallup and the complaining Cliff Shipton concentrated every thought upon their captive; Joe showed signs of weakening, and every man of them held that if only Joe could be led to "open up" they would all be made rich at his expense.
Meanwhile Gallup had given Joe his water; Joe had drunk rapidly, gulping noisily. Taggart and Gallup and Shipton were eying him eagerly. Joe had taken a deep breath; again he started to drink. Taggart struck the can away from his mouth, commanding: "No more. You've got to talk first; fast and straight and no lies! Understand?"