Suddenly, as he looked toward the sack that rested upon the log, he saw it move. In an instant a pistol shot rang out, and the robbers sprang to their feet with cries of alarm.
“Somebody’s behind that log!” shouted Larkin, who was himself trembling with fear.
At once Bryonia arose to his feet, stepped over the log, and calmly advanced into the light of the fire, holding out his hand in greeting and smiling broadly into the angry faces confronting him.
“Don’ shoot poor Bry,” he said, pleadingly. “I’se run ’way to j’ine you.”
“Run away!” exclaimed Larkin, while the others looked at the black suspiciously. “Why did you do that?”
“So’s I won’ haf to work any mo’,” answered Bry. “Dey’s jest killin’ me in dat camp, luggin’ bags o’ sand an’ washin’ gold all day.”
“Who came with you?” asked Daggett.
“Nobody ’t all,” declared Bry. “I seen yo’ all leave de camp, an’ so I crep’ along after yo’. Wouldn’t have let yo’ know I was here, sure ’nough, but I got so hungry. I couldn’t stand it no longer, so I tried to steal somefin’ to eat, an’ Mars Larkin he shot de gun at me.”
“How did you know we had quit the camp for good?” enquired Pete, in a surly tone.
“Saw you take de gold, suh. So I ’pects you ain’t comin’ back agin’, an’ thought I’d j’ine yo’. If you’ll take me ’long an’ feed me, Mars Hayes, I’ll help tote de gold.”