“Perhaps you’ll be sorry you did.”
“Perhaps so, but it’s done now.”
Jack rose once more and placed a hand on his companion’s shoulder.
“Osgood,” he said, “I refuse to believe that a fellow with a conscience like yours can be thoroughly bad. Your natural impulses are right. You didn’t bind me to secrecy, but I’ll pledge you now that I’m not going to give you away.”
“I don’t suppose it will make any great difference whether you do or not,” returned Ned unemotionally; “but I thank you for your good will. Hadn’t we better look up the rest of the bunch? By this time they’re probably wondering what has become of us.”
As he was starting to rise, Jack gripped his shoulder, hissing:
“Keep still! What’s that? Some one is coming this way!”
From a distance came the sounds of a body moving through the underbrush. Slowly the sounds drew nearer, ceasing at intervals, as if the person, if a person it was, paused now and then to rest or listen.
“Who do you suppose it is?” whispered Nelson. “It doesn’t seem to me it can be one of the fellows coming back this way.”
Osgood shook his head as he rose noiselessly to his feet. Looking at each other, the same thought filled their minds.