“Et ees easy to tell, monsieur. You will not get lost,” the messenger shrugged his shoulders expressively. “Two mile down ze leetle creek to ze first turn to ze right, zen four mile straight ahead to my friend’s house. Not possibly can you miss et, monsieur.”
“So that is where Henderson is camped,” exulted Dick to himself. “The information may be valuable to Corporal Richardson.”
“Thank you very much,” he said to Baptiste.
“Et ees nothing,” La Lond blinked wickedly.
Phillip had suddenly come to life again and was treading soft-footed across the floor. From the corner of one eye, Dick watched him. Then Baptiste shuffled farther to one side, probably with the intention of preventing Dick from observing his brother’s sly movements. Not to be outdone in this clumsy fashion, Dick took a step in the opposite direction, just in time to see Phillip approach the fireplace and the rack of guns close by.
“You will find ze place without difficulty,” declared Baptiste in a loud voice, attempting to attract attention to himself. “I tell you, monsieur, my friend he ees veree good host. So joll-ee, so kind, monsieur. You will not regret.”
Dick whipped his revolver from his holster and sprang back just in time.
“Put down that gun,” he shouted to Phillip. “Put it down, I say!”
Phillip’s weapon clattered to the floor, and his hands clawed at the empty air above his head. At that particular moment he was a very much frightened and surprised young man. His cheeks were white as the drifts of snow outside. Baptiste turned, his face crimson with fury.
“Fool! Fool!” he screamed, rushing forward and cuffing the shivering culprit about the face and head. Then he turned apologetically to Dick.