The big man’s eyes gleamed with hatred, but with Toma’s revolver threatening him, he was forced to obey.
“Take it,” he growled out an oath. “But I bet yuh don’t keep it long, stranger. Yuh won’t never get away with it. Jus’ mark my words.”
Dick stepped back, laughing.
“That remains to be seen,” he answered the outlaw. “You fellows can go now. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll leave this neighborhood as quickly as you can. I have the description of both of you and will notify the mounted police of this night’s affair.”
The partners struck off through the underbrush, calling out their taunts. It was not long before silence came again. The three boys stood in a little circle, looking at each other. Now that the tension had relaxed, they were all more or less bewildered. Dick still had the small poke in his hand, and as yet had scarcely deigned to give it a second glance. Suddenly, Sandy’s voice rang out:
“Well, if you ask me, this is a peculiar night’s business. I’m almost stunned. We’re indebted to Toma for the way everything has turned out. Let’s see what’s in that poke, Dick. Why don’t you open it?”
Dick looked down at the small object in his hand. He turned it over and over thoughtfully.
“No,” he said, “you can open it, Sandy. I’m too shaky.”
With the poke held firmly between two fingers, he reached out to hand it to his chum. But in that moment a strange thing happened. A crackling of brush, a lightning leap forward, a snarl like that of a beast—and the thing was whisked from his fingers as it dangled there in the air. Then a figure darted past them and disappeared in the darkness of the forest beyond.
The three chums gaped at each other.