"'Alt!" came a hoarse command just as they were about to enter a somewhat thick belt of timber well supplied with undergrowth. Simultaneously a rifle protruded from the bushes right in front of them, and a wild, famished-looking face followed it.
Max and Dale stopped dead.
"What d'ye want poking about 'ere?" the man demanded in Cockney English in a surly tone. "I don't understand your lingo, but say something, or I'll let go."
The man had a fierce and reckless look, and fingered his rifle as though ready enough to keep his word. Hastily Max replied:
"It's all right; we're friends. Put down your gun, there's a good fellow."
