“Lie low. They’ll have to be pretty smart to catch me. I haven’t done anything wrong—tried my best to tell Uncle Dan about the trip, and he cut me short. Then what did he say about Jack Lyons’ father—‘A good lawyer and useful citizen.’ Of course I was surprised to find Redfern aboard; but he’s a dandy chap, and I wouldn’t hurt his feelings by backing out—no, sir.”
George spoke in a rapid, excited manner which showed the disturbed condition of his feelings, all the time keeping a watchful eye open for any signs of his uncle and Pierre.
Suddenly, boyish voices, raised as though an animated discussion was in progress, reached their ears.
“Look out,” cautioned George.
“Just a lot of young chaps,” said Bob, reassuringly.
“I knew you were taking us about a mile out of our way, Bill Stiles,” cried a voice. “Felt it in my legs, I did. Hang the luck, I’m so tired now, I can hardly move.”
“If you knew so much about it, why didn’t you set us right, Roy Pinger?” demanded another, loudly.
“Because Bill Stiles said he knew the way—that’s why.”
“Say, why doesn’t the whole crowd jump on me at once? If I hadn’t kept my eyes open, you’d be strutting ahead now.”
“Oh, Jiminy! what a whopper, Bill Stiles. Bet you don’t know anything about it. Hello—there’s that chaffer fellow out here yet.”