"Whoever ambushed us has cut and run along close to the wall and down among those trees and outbuildings," surmised Bob.
"Come on, let's after 'em," proposed Jimmy sharply. "We're losing time. We'll never nab 'em at this rate. Hug the wall, though. It's safer."
Led by impetuous Jimmy the party traversed on the run a long stretch of bare ground that sloped gradually down to a small orchard at the end of the grounds. Their eyes were sharply trained ahead to catch a first glimpse of their quarry, hidden perhaps behind the trunk of a tree.
Against the moon's silver rays the trees stood out sharply, their bare branches affording little shadow in which the fugitive enemy might seek concealment.
First impulse toward self-protection under fire had been completely routed by the desire to give chase. The hunters now darted recklessly in and out among the trees, oblivious to the possibility of a fresh attack from a new quarter.
None came. Neither did they glimpse any human beings other than themselves. The enemy evidently had abandoned his or their murderous project, and fled from the premises. Continued search led to the discovery of a gap in the lower end of the wall.
"Here's where they beat it!" Bob pointed triumphantly to the gap.
"Looks like it. We've gone over every foot of this orchard."
Roger frowningly eyed the break in the wall.
"I don't believe it was they." Jimmy shook a decided head. "It was he. A one-man game. He had a gun with a Maxim silencer, too. That's why we heard only a queer muffled sound instead of distinct reports."