It was not possible to carry on any extended conversation while running at full speed among the foliage, at great risk of falling headlong over a projecting root, or being stricken down by a low-hanging limb.
They were gaining in the chase as could readily be seen, and when perhaps ten minutes had passed the lads were so near that it seemed certain Ephraim could be no more than a dozen yards in advance.
"No one can say what accident may happen at any moment to give him an advantage!" Evan said sharply, speaking with difficulty because of his heavy breathing. "You must bring him down soon, or we may get back to the encampment too late!"
No suggestion could have been made which would have had greater weight than this; and, raising his voice, at the same time priming the musket as he ran, Nathan cried:
"Come to a halt, Ephraim Sowers, or I shall fire! At this short range there is little danger but that my bullet will strike its target, with such good token of your whereabouts as you are giving us."
The Tory made no reply; and the waving of the bushes could still be seen, thus showing that he had not obeyed the command.
"Do not delay, but shoot at once, and then exchange muskets with me!" Evan cried in an agony of apprehension, lest some unforeseen chance give the fugitive such an advantage as they could not overcome.
Nathan hesitated no longer. Raising the weapon he fired in a line with the moving foliage, and the report of the musket was followed by a scream as of pain.
"I'm sorry I didn't wait a few minutes longer!" the lad cried, in a tone of deepest regret. "Of course we were bound to stop him; but it might have been done without killing!"
Evan shared his comrade's regrets, believing Ephraim had been seriously if not dangerously wounded, and the two ran forward with all speed, fully expecting to find their enemy disabled or dead.