"That would be nice for me, wouldn't it?" said Ardmore, grinning—"to be arrested for running a still on my place."
"We don't want to lose our right to the track, and we must get out of this before the whole community comes to take a look at us," said Cooke, swinging out of the caboose.
Ardmore talked frankly to the forester, having constant recourse to the map; and Paul sketched roughly a new chart, marking roads and paths so far as he knew them, and indicating clearly where the Ardsley boundaries extended. Then Ardmore took a blue pencil and drew a straight line.
"When we get Appleweight, we want to hurry him from Dilwell County, North Carolina, into Mingo County, South Carolina. We will go to the county town there, and put him in jail. If the sheriff of Mingo is weak-kneed, we will lock Appleweight up anyhow, and telegraph the governor of South Carolina that the joke is on him."
"We will catch the man," said Paul gravely, "but we may have to kill him."
"Dead or alive, he's got to be caught," said Ardmore, and the big forester stared at his employer a little oddly; for this lord proprietor had not been known to his employees and tenants as a serious character, but rather as an indolent person who, when he visited his estate in the hills, locked himself up unaccountably in his library and rarely had the energy to stir up the game in his broad preserves.
"Certainly, sir; dead or alive," Paul repeated.
Cooke came out of the station and signaled the engineer to go ahead.
"We'll pull down here about five miles to an old spur where the company used to load wood. There's a little valley there where we can be hidden all we please, so far as the main line is concerned, and it might not be a bad idea to establish headquarters there. We have the tools for cutting in on the telegraph, and we can be as independent as we please. I told the agent we were carrying company powder for a blasting job down the line, and he suspects nothing."
Paul left the caboose as the train started, and rode away on horseback to visit his pickets. The train crept warily over the spur into the old wood-cutters' camp, where, as Cooke had forecast, they were quite shut in from the main line by hills and woodland.