Spagano was proving himself a traitor, and his bearing told that this was not his first Judas act.
He reached the robe-couch, and bent over the sleeping girl.
She lay near Roy Funk, who tossed uneasily about, the victim of some terrible dream.
It seemed impossible for Spagano to steal the girl, if theft was his intention, without rousing her, but he proved himself equal to the emergency.
Suddenly stooping, he clapped one brawny hand over the bright-red lips, while the other snatched their owner from the ground, in the twinkling of an eye!
Then he sprung backward over the sleeping Night-Hawks; but was brought to an abrupt stand by the sound of rushing feet.
He leaned forward and looked with an expression of satisfaction, which was soon transformed into one of horror.
For Colonel O’Neill appeared, like a giant, in the flickering light, and the savage caught a glimpse of a phalanx of red-coats in his rear.
What would be done?
It was evident that Spagano was aiding parties other than O’Neill and Royal Funk, and that he had mistaken a deadly footstep for a friendly one.