Therefore was their surprise all the greater when the swaying of the branches told that the Tory was yet able to keep his feet, and once more Nathan shouted, this time in a tone of anger:
"Halt, or I shall fire again! Give me your musket, Evan, and do you load this one! Work quickly, for I'm not minded to linger over the task of stopping him!"
The exchange of weapons was made without delay, and once more Nathan fired. Again came a scream as of pain from the fugitive; but this time the pursuers were not troubled in mind lest they had needlessly inflicted pain.
Nathan leaped forward as he discharged the musket, and an instant later stood face to face with Ephraim Sowers, who, with a rotten branch upraised as a club, stood at bay where a perfect network of trees, that had most likely been overturned by the wind, barred his further passage.
"I'll beat your brains out!" Ephraim screamed viciously, brandishing his poor apology for a weapon. "Don't make the mistake of thinkin' I'll be carried back among them rebels!"
"You had better give in peaceably, for we shan't spend much time in arguing the matter," Nathan said decidedly; but yet he did not advance for the very good reason that he was virtually unarmed, having dropped his musket at the moment of emptying it, in order that he might not be impeded in his movements.
Because he remained motionless, Ephraim believed the lad was afraid, and pressed his supposed advantage by crying, in a tone that was very like the snarl of a cat:
"Keep your distance or I'll kill you! This club will stand me as good a turn as the empty muskets do you, an' I count on using it!"
By this time Evan came into view carrying both weapons, and, seeing that the game was brought to bay without opportunity of continuing the flight, said quietly:
"Keep your eye on him, Nathan, and I'll soon put in a charge that will bring him to terms."