I heard some one whistling and thought it was Bromley, and waited for him to come up to tell him to keep quiet, but when he came beside me, he whispered, "They are following us."
We went on.
Soon a voice behind us called, "Halt!"
"It's no use, Sim—they have us," Bromley whispered.
Ahead of us was a little bush, toward which we kept going. We did not run, because we thought that the people who were following us were not sure who we were, and therefore would not be likely to shoot. Bromley knew he could not stand a race for it in his condition, but, knowing him as I do, I believe he would have made the effort; but I think he saw that if he went back and surrendered, it would give us more time to get away.
"Go on, Sim," he whispered to me.
We had agreed that if anything happened to one of us, the others were to go on. We could not hope to help each other against such numbers.
When we got opposite the wood, we made a dash for it.
I think it was then that Bromley went back and gave himself up. I often wondered what he told them about the other men they had seen. Whatever he thought was best for our safety, I am sure of that, for Bromley was a loyal comrade and the best of chums.