He led his companions back on the far side of the stream, and they took up a position, well concealed, between the water and Miss Grey's camp fire, hobbling their horses beside them. They had food in their haversacks, and when they had taken supper the sergeant claimed first turn for a sleep.
At midnight he was on watch alone, sitting with his back against a tree-trunk and his carbine across his knees, while Medlicott and Rapson rested. The moon was shining brightly, making everything almost as clear as in daylight. All was quiet excepting for the occasional movement of one of the horses, the croaking of bull frogs, and the harsh chirping of night insects. Suddenly a new sound fell upon his ear. He put forth his hand and touched Trooper Medlicott.
"You awake, Bob?"
"I am listening," whispered Medlicott. "There's two of 'em. They're coming this way on the trail of the wagon. They've passed the place where we forked off."
"Maybe they're a couple of our own boys," said Silk. "But whoever they are, they'll sure pull up near the camp fire to nose around. Follow me up. Bring Rapson; but keep him well in the rear. There's the deerhound barking!"
He tightened the cinches of his saddle, and, mounting, rode up very cautiously towards the fire. His overcoat covered his red tunic, and the two teamsters, who were awake and on their feet, neither saw nor heard him as he moved stealthily among the black shadows of the trees bordering the trail between the wagon and the approaching horsemen.
Nearer and nearer they came. For a long time Silk listened to the sound of their horses' hoofs, watching for them to cross into a wide stretch of moonlit grass. Trooper Medlicott was now close behind him. Percy Rapson was far back.
"Here they come!" whispered Sergeant Silk. "Be ready to give chase. They're both masked."
He rode boldly out to meet them, halting in the middle of the trail and raising his carbine.
"Who goes?" he cried. "Pull up, or I fire!"