"No. If you're going, I'm going, too," I answered, determined not to be alone again in this forest, so full of horrors.
"Well, do as you like. There will be no danger if we can reach the place without being seen."
"That'll be easy enough, for the trees will hide us; but I wish you'd go back to Appletop," I answered, full of forebodings.
"To be shot from a bush to-morrow? No! I must find out who it is that seeks my life, if, indeed, there is any one save Burke himself."
"Burke'll never tell, I know he'll not," I answered, still hoping to dissuade him.
"Well, I will get him, anyway, and that will make one enemy the less to guard against," he replied, springing into the saddle.
Lifting me up behind him, he put spurs to his horse, and in a few minutes we reached the top of the bluff. Turning into the forest, we made our way to the grove back of the cabin, and here, fastening the horse, we crept forward on our hands and knees to the rear of the hut. Peering within, and everything being as I had left it, we made our way into the dark inclosure. Closing the door, Uncle Job went to Blott, bidding me keep a lookout for Burke; and this I could do through the opening in the wall without in any way betraying our presence. Trying first his pulse and then his heart, Uncle Job exclaimed at last:
"There is life in him, but whether he can be brought around or not is another thing." Saying which, he got down on his knees and began to beat the man's arms and chest, prying his mouth open at last, and breathing into it, as if he would force life into the body whether or no.
While thus engaged, Burke emerged from the shadows of the trees, and upon my crying out, Uncle Job got up, and taking a pistol in each hand, stationed himself in the middle of the room. Reaching the door, Burke pushed it open, and doing so, stood outlined in the bright moonlight. At this, and before he could enter or suspect our presence, Uncle Job cried out in a terrible voice:
"Throw up your hands, Burke, or you are a dead man!"