“Jim is not there,” said Jo, sadly. “I wonder what has become of him?”
“Probably he is still a prisoner, and we—hush! There is somebody moving through the woods!”
Some one was approaching, but in a slow and hesitating manner, yet making no effort at concealment.
“It is the steward,” whispered Jo, after a moment. “Be ready, Tom, we will get him for sure!”
Absolutely motionless they all were until the steward had come to within a dozen feet of where they lay hidden, then, as he turned to move in another direction, Jo and Tom, at a signal from the former, sprang to their feet and with one bound were upon their intended prisoner. They bore him to the earth and held him secure, while Berwick quickly bound his hands behind his back.
Greatly to the surprise of all, the steward offered no resistance and made no effort whatever to escape. He hung his head on seeing whom his captors were and looked like a man suffering abjectly.
“Quick, you villain,” cried Jo, grasping his arm. “Where is my brother?”
Without hesitation came the answer, “He is quite safe. He has escaped.”