The hours dragged on wearily. The boys did not know whether it were
night or day. Finally the lookout came down to where Jones was
pacing steadily back and forth.
"Well?"
"Something going on over there," answered the lookout, jerking his head
toward the opening.
"What do you think?"
"I don't know. They're running around out there with torches."
"Where are they?"
"On the other side of the clearing."
"Got their rifles with them?"
"No."
"McKay there?"
"The whole crowd's there."
"They've missed us," whispered Chunky. "They're looking for us."
"Sh---h---h---h," warned Tad softly. Jones pondered for a moment, then
he turned to the lookout sharply.
"Wake up the men," he said.
"I reckon something is going to be did," whispered the irrepressible
Chunky. Something was.
CHAPTER XXIV
CONCLUSION
The waking of the men was a matter of seconds merely. A touch on the
shoulder and the man touched was on his feet as if propelled by
springs, hand instinctively going to the revolver dangling from his
belt.
Tad, now keenly alive to what was going on, had partially thrown the
blankets off, Chunky having done the same.
"Don't stir. I'll tell you when it is time to move," warned Tad.
"Men, I've changed my mind," announced the leader. "Are you ready for
a fight?"
"Sure we are if it's Rangers you want us to fight," answered a voice.
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