When Devlin slowed down he coughed with satisfaction. “I’m glad to see that neither of you tried to pull a fast one. I had made up my mind that I’d wreck the car if you did—I’m that way, boys.”
“Yeah, we can see that,” Nickie said, with no conscious attempt to be humorous. “You needn’t a’ worried bout me, Devlin—I wouldn’t a’ laid a hand on you. The shave was close enough the way this car was goin’.”
Skippy had barely heard anything that was said. He could think only that Dick Hallam had been near enough to touch not a half hour back, and now the night, and perhaps Death itself, separated them. Certainly, it was too much to hope that Hallam should find them now or ever!
The doctor had said that no one knew of Devil’s Bog. Why hadn’t he known the name of the place before? Neither Carlton Conne nor his men would ever find the place from his poor description of it. And yet, he thought, did not the desolate swampland stand out from all other swamplands? Somehow, it did.
And Dean Devlin, known or unknown, made it stand out still more.
CHAPTER XXVI
GOLDEN OPPORTUNITY
They talked it all over before they went to sleep that night and concluded that one bright star of hope burned brightly in their favor. Everything indicated that Devlin meant to get them both off his hands at once. Nickie observed that perhaps Frost had put the idea in his head and, if so, they had much for which to thank him.
Skippy’s thoughts were full of Dick Hallam and he dared to think there might be some hope in that direction. Might not Hallam guess that Devlin was holding him prisoner somewhere in the locality? Might not Carlton Conne send out his men to scour the countryside until they trailed down the forgotten house that lay in the fastnesses of Devil’s Bog?
“He’s gotta!” Skippy said aloud.
“Hah?” Nickie asked sleepily.