A look as though he were possessed came into the colonel’s eyes, and his fingers closed nervously upon his revolver; but ere he could use it, if indeed it were his intention to do so, Ephraim stooped suddenly, and catching him round the legs, flung him sprawling on his back. Then, with a wild yell of ‘Run! Luce, run!’ he rushed for the shelter of the woods.
After him dashed Lucius, hard upon his heels, as the colonel, foaming and spluttering, staggered to his feet and discharged his revolver at random.
‘Follow them!’ he roared. And the men, alarmed at what might be the consequences to themselves if they refused, hastened in pursuit. But they had no heart for the game, and once out of sight among the trees, halted or scattered, and presently the fugitives, doubling like hares in and out of the dark boles, heard the noise of following footsteps die away, and sank, panting and exhausted, on the mossy carpet beneath an aged oak.
CHAPTER VI.
A FREE BREAKFAST.
‘By time!’ gasped Ephraim, struggling to recover his breath. ‘Thet war a narrow squeak. Hi! Luce, how ye plugged him.’ He chuckled gleefully.
Lucius only nodded. He was too short of wind to attempt to speak.
‘If I’d on’y had my gun, I’d hev gin him ez good ez he gin me and better,’ went on Ephraim. ‘D’ye reckon he war in ’arnest, Luce, with his talk about hangin’, or war it on’y jest ter skeer us ’cause we riled him?’
‘Just—as—well—got—away—think he—meant it,’ panted Lucius, still breathless.