“I put him on the horse in front of me, and streaked it for this spot. When we’d rode as far as we could, I took him down and made him walk; and—would you believe it?—though I followed him up close, he gave me the slip again, and ran like split down the shore, jumped in a skiff, and rowed off.”
“The devil he did,” said Roake. “You’ve made a pretty mess of it, all around. You ain’t so sharp as you used to be. And so the fellow has escaped, has he?”
“I hope not,” said Snags. “Rattler and the others are out with two boats after him, and as he didn’t get much of a start I think they’ll catch him. It’ll be mighty serious business if they don’t.”
“How’s that?”
“He’ll bring officers here, and they’ll burst up the whole nest of us.”
“That would be a bad job. And you can have your cursed blundering to thank for it. Just think of it; to kill a man when it was not in the game, and then to let a prisoner escape from you so easily.”
“Don’t blow, Roake. I couldn’t help it. There is one thing we can do; if our man is not caught we can leave this place, and take a journey that leaves no trail.”
“I hate to do that.”
“So do I. But self-preservation, and so forth, you know.”
Both men were silent for a short time, when Snags said: