CHAPTER XXVI
BUG'S PROPOSITION
There was dead silence for a while. It was only too evident that Moxley meant what he said, and though Jeffries and Hocker were brave men, they were reluctant to engage in a struggle with all the odds against them.
Accompanied by Ned and Bug they moved down to the edge of the water—a distance of less than thirty feet in the present condition of the creek—and ensconced themselves in some thick bushes. There was no slight risk that Moxley would shoot through the crevices if the moonlight afforded him a tempting chance.
"If we can wait in patience the game will fall into our hands," said Jeffries. "The rascal has been drinking, and the fiery stuff has given him false courage. After a while he will either fall asleep or become helpless from intoxication."
"I wonder if the boys know that help is outside," remarked Ned, "I wish I could get a few words with them."
"Of course they know it," replied Hocker. "They heard every word that was said, and they have too much sense to make any outcry. We'll get them out of the scrape before long, never fear."
Just then the farmer's shrill voice rang out distinctly from the hillside behind the mill:
"Keep back, you rascal. If you crawl out that window I'll drop you quick as a wink."