"Ha, ha!" laughed Doret. "You mus' be tired, Meestaire R-r-unnion. Better you pick up your feet. Dat's free tarn' you've-"
They emerged into the open behind the house to pause in line back of Lee, who was staring at the stove-pipe of his cabin, from which came a wisp of smoke. It seemed to Burrell that they held their position for a long time. Then he heard Lee say:
"Well, I'll be damned! Somebody's here ahead of us."
"We've been beaten," growled Stark, angrily, pushing past him and coming round the corner, an ugly look in his eyes.
Burrell was standing at ease in the door, smoking, one forearm resting on the jamb, his wide shoulders nearly filling the entrance.
"Good-afternoon," he nodded, pleasantly.
Lee answered him unintelligibly; Stark said nothing, but Runnion's exclamation was plain.
"It's that damned blue-belly!"
"When did YOU get here?" said Stark, after a pause.
"A few hours ago."