“We’d save him!” was his stout resolve. “We—”
He broke off. A chill, creeping up from his very toes, left him rooted to the spot. He had caught a sound of movement in the brush behind him. There could be no mistaking that.
“Sandy has been ambushed and captured. Now it is our turn. Will they fight?” Fresh courage flooded his being as, gripping his bow, he whirled about.
The next instant he all but dropped in his tracks. Framed in the green that was the spruce boughs, he beheld a face, the face of Drew Lane!
Starting back like one who sees a ghost, he stood there, rigid as marble.
The face smiled. He knew that smile. It was Drew Lane’s smile. No ghost this, but a living being.
“Drew Lane, as I live!”
“Right the first time.”
“And—and you did not fall from the parachute?”
Drew did not answer.