“Well, what of it? I reckon we’re smart enough to make our escape. We’ll just stay here till twelve or one o’clock, then we’ll make tracks for Bolton’s house. Take my word for it, bub, he’ll never put that money in the bank to-morrow.”
Paul almost betrayed his proximity by the start he gave as these words reached his ears. Mr. Bolton was the treasurer of the Building and Loan Association into which he was going to pay the fifty dollars that night, and these two men were concocting a scheme to rob him at his home.
The youth soon decided what to do. He must hurry away at once, and tell the treasurer what he had discovered.
“It’s the greatest piece of rascality I ever heard of,” thought Paul, as he cautiously rose to his feet and turned away.
But he was not destined to escape. He stepped upon a small stone which slid out from under his foot with a sharp noise, and nearly threw him down.
“What’s that?” cried one of the men, and the next second both were heard starting from the cave.
Paul did not wait. Knowing he was sure to be caught, he broke into a run.
The next moment the men saw him, and started in pursuit with a shout of rage.
“Stop, you young eavesdropper,” cried the foremost ruffian; “stop, I say, or I’ll shoot you.”
Paul paid no attention. He dashed back toward the road, expecting to have a bullet sent after him each moment, but for some reason it did not come.