CHAPTER IV.
THE OUTLAW'S HOME.
A dead silence reigned around that camp fire for several moments after the two departed; but then the seven strangers who were left seated themselves in various attitudes, filled their pipes—or lit the stubs of half-smoked cigars, produced from their pockets; and after that, little by little, conversation was indulged in.
The night was warm and balmy. There was no reason why any of them should seek other shelter than the boughs of the trees which already covered them; but Nick knew from the manner in which Handsome had left them that he expected to return, and that there was some other place near by to which he intended to take them—if the chief should say the word. And he saw now that Patsy, by rare forethought, had prepared for that very emergency.
More than an hour had passed before Handsome made his appearance again; and then he loomed suddenly beside the camp fire, as silently and as stealthily as an Indian. Even Nick Carter, who was on the alert for his approach, did not hear him coming.
"I'll take you now!" he said briefly to Nick. "The others can wait."
Without a word more he turned away again, and Nick, leaping to his feet, followed him in silence through the darkness.
The night was almost black in there among the trees, although the moon was shining above them; but nevertheless Nick had no difficulty in following his guide.
They made directly for the railway tracks, and crossed the fence that intervened; but when they reached the top of the grade, Nick's guide halted and faced him.