CHAPTER XXVII.
THROUGH THE WOODS.
Raikes fixed his disheveled clothes, and pulled his cap down over his forehead. Then he thrust his hands into his pockets, and stared meaningly at Sparwick.
“What are you lookin’ at me fur?” demanded Sparwick.
“I was just thinking what a big, lubberly fool you are,” replied Raikes, boldly. “Hold on—don’t get riled. I want to talk to you for a minute or two.”
“Fire away,” said Sparwick.
Raikes shook his head.
“No, not here. It must be a private conversation.”
Sparwick hesitated, and a greedy look came into his eyes.