CHAPTER XIV
A MEETING IN THE WOODS
Scarcely had the boys recovered from their astonishment, when they were treated to a still greater and more breath-taking surprise. Meade’s son was the first to draw their attention. In their interest in the newcomer, they had entirely overlooked the approach of two others.
These two were Burnnel and Emery. They rode up to the accompanying thump, thump, thump of three wildly beating hearts. Astride two horses! Stolen horses! In his agitation, Dick rose and gripped the back of his chair. He recognized the wiry little ponies, and rubbed his eyes. Less than twenty-four hours before he had ridden one of them himself. The other belonged to Sandy.
In truth, Dick had become so excited that for the next few moments he was barely aware of what was taking place. He was confused and befuddled. He saw Sandy and Toma shoot to their feet in sudden dismay and shrink back toward the open doorway. Not knowing that anything was wrong, Meade and his son had gone forward to bid the new arrivals a hearty welcome. And it was probably well that they did, for it gave the three boys time to slip within the log building, hurriedly cross the room and pass out of the door at the opposite side.
All three were trembling with excitement. Below his shock of bright yellow hair, Sandy’s forehead was ashen. The boys hoped that they had not been recognized. Undoubtedly, while making their approach, Burnnel and Emery had seen them, but Dick recalled that in the position in which they sat out there on the front porch, they had been hid somewhat by the figures of Meade and his son.
The coming of the two malevolent prospectors had placed them in a rather awkward, if not dangerous position. It would be impossible for them to remain at the road-house while the partners were there. Burnnel and Emery had not forgotten the encounter of two days before in front of Creel’s cabin. No doubt, they would take a great deal of pleasure in evening the score. Both were remorseless, savage, vindictive. Neither would hesitate for a moment to take any advantage offered, any opportunity for reprisal.
“No, it will never do for us to remain,” Sandy trembled. “You and Toma can stay here if you like, Dick—not I. If we stay here, we’ll be compelled to fight it out.”
“I willing fight,” Toma announced darkly.
“It wouldn’t be fair to Meade,” Dick objected. “There’s sure to be trouble. Anyway, there’s nothing to be gained by remaining here.”
“The thing to do,” said Sandy emphatically, “is to get out—go somewhere and make camp for the night. Either that, or start back at once for Frischette’s road-house, which we had planned to do tomorrow anyway. I’ll repeat that I don’t care to show my face around here—at least, not until Burnnel and Emery have gone.”