“I—I hate to think of it. You’d be all right if only Toma were with you. But alone—”
He paused, choking.
“I’ll set out right away,” said Dick, “and you needn’t worry, Sandy. I’ll promise to be careful. I won’t take any more chances than necessary. Perhaps I’ll find them asleep.”
He turned to go. Sandy sprang after him, seizing his arm.
“If anything happens to you, Dick, I’ll—I’ll feel that it’s all my fault. But don’t forget that I’m with you. If—if they should happen to take you prisoner, I’ll manage your release somehow.”
“I know you will, Sandy,”—in a smothered voice.
“Good-bye, Dick.”
“Good-bye.”
Dick stumbled forward through the shadows, his heart beating wildly. A mile to Burnnel’s camp. Not far! He’d move cautiously. He mustn’t fail now. Victory was in their hands.
The shadows were very dark along the ridge, and far below came the murmur of the river. From its darkened perch, an owl hooted dismally.