About nine o'clock Wolverton stole out in the darkness, and made his way stealthily to the bend in the creek. He had with him a sharp razor—he had no knife sharp enough—which he judged would sever the thick rope.
Arrived at the place of his destination, he bent over and drew out the razor, which he opened and commenced operations. But there was an unlooked-for interference.
A light, boyish figure sprang from behind a tree, and Bob Barton, laying his hand on Wolverton's shoulder, demanded, indignantly:
"What are you doing here, Mr. Wolverton?"
Wolverton started, dropped the razor in the river, and, with an expression of alarm, looked up into Bob's face.
CHAPTER XIX. MR. WOLVERTON MEETS TWO CONGENIAL SPIRITS.
"What are you doing here, Mr. Wolverton?" repeated Bob, sternly.
"Oh, it's you, Bob, is it?" said Wolverton, with assumed lightness. "Really, you quite startled me, coming upon me so suddenly in the dark."