Suiting the action to the word, he started away, walking leisurely. He had gone less than fifty yards, when he drew back, startled. Unless his eyes had deceived him, he had seen something—a movement in the brush. Trembling, he took up a position in the deep shadows, close to a willow copse, straining his eyes through the obscurity.
“Might be a deer,” he thought.
He had really not expected to see a man. Yet a man it was. Creel! Dick blinked. The old recluse stood limned in the darkening twilight, scarcely twenty feet away. His attitude was that of a hunted beast. His long hair fell over his eyes in straggly disorder, giving him the appearance of a madman. His long beard fluttered lightly in the breeze.
Dick’s heart leaped. Creel was coming straight toward him. Cold sweat beaded Dick’s brow. He was shaking as if from the ague. Nearer and nearer came Creel. Only a few feet away now—almost upon him!
Then, suddenly, for no apparent reason, the recluse paused. Dick could hear his labored breathing. Some intuitive sense had warned the man of impending danger. For a full minute he remained perfectly still, his gaze darting from right to left. He took one step forward cautiously. A second step. Again he paused. He was so close now, that Dick could almost reach out his hand and touch him. The young man’s mind was awhirl, dizzy with conflicting impulses. His quarry within his grasp, and yet he hesitated. Why, he did not know.
The recluse took one more step and in that instant caught sight of the crouching form. He attempted to turn, one hand struggling at his belt. Dick lunged forward, catching Creel around the knees, bearing him down. The struggle was short but spirited.
“No use,” panted Dick, “I’ve got you!”
Creel’s struggles subsided.
“What do you want with me?” choked the captive, as Dick pinioned his arms.
“The police are looking for you, Creel,” the other breathed in his ear. “The game’s up. You’ll have to come along with me.”