"No, no, I can't stain my hands with blood, his or that of any other man."
The ruffian regarded him with a brutal sneer and a muttered sentence, of which the only audible words were "white livered coward."
Lyttleton writhed under the charge but dared not resent it. In fact he began to feel himself in a perilous position; darkness was already settling down over the forest, he had not full confidence in his valet, and these others were evidently unscrupulous scoundrels.
"How much ahead are you, did ye say?" queried Shark.
"I think we have the start of him by from six to eight hours," replied Lyttleton. "Besides, we have pushed on more rapidly than he would be likely to, as you may judge by the condition of our horses."
"H'm! then he'll most likely be along here about this time, or a trifle earlier, to-morrow, stop fur his lodging at Brannon's, just above here, a little back in the woods, or at my shanty five miles furder on. 'Twont make much difference; whichever he stops with, the other'll help entertain him. And, stranger, we kin turn out purty strong on occasion. I've two strappin' sons and a nevvy, and the old woman can lend a helpin' hand too, when she's wanted.
"S'posen' you and Brannon and this other feller come over home with me now, and let's talk it over. We'll determine just what's to be done, and I'll set my price."
Lyttleton had felt a cold chill running down his spine during this speech and at the moment would gladly have put many miles between him and what he began to suspect was an organized band of robbers and cut-throats.
But evidently it would not do to show fear. Carefully steadying his voice, he courteously thanked Shark for his invitation, but declined it on the plea that they all, himself, Hans and both their horses, were in sore need of rest; for which reason they would stop for the night with Brannon; his house being so much nearer. This seemed satisfactory and thither they all went.