“Guess they’ve either given it up or have taken the wrong direction,” Bob said as he paused for a moment.
“You mean the right direction for us,” Jack corrected.
“You win,” Bob laughed, “but we better keep a going for a while longer before we slack up. The greater the distance we put between them and us the safer I’ll feel.”
For another hour or more they kept up as rapid a pace as was possible and then Bob called a halt, and after listening for a moment he expressed the opinion that, for the time at least, they were safe.
“I guess we’ve shaken them off all right.”
“Looks like it,” Jack agreed. “I reckon I can stand a few minutes’ rest. How about you?”
“You said it, boy. I’m dead tired.”
They threw off their packs and dropped to the ground. Eagerly they compared notes telling each other all that had happened since they had parted.
“But why didn’t you come out of that cabin when I did?” Jack asked as Bob finished telling what a time he had in cutting through the door.
“For the same reason the Paddy didn’t ride the mule,” Bob laughed. “I couldn’t. You see, just as I reached the door someone grabbed me and jerked me back. And say, boy, that fellow must be stronger than Sampson himself, the way he dragged me back into that room was a caution. I thought he’d snap my head off.”