“Good Lord!  You’ve killed him!” cried Bob.

“I did not; I fired straight up!” panted Elliott, dashing past him.  “Quick!  We’ll catch him!”

But catch him nor see him again they did not.

Ten minutes later while working in a wide open stretch of forest, they were brought to a stand by the report of a rifle.  At the same instant the shock of a bullet threw a shower of dead pine needles and humus over Elliott.  Another and another followed, until six had thudded into the soft earth at the young man’s feet.  He stood quite motionless, and though he went a little pale, his coolness did not desert him.  After the sixth shot silence fell abruptly.  Elliott stood still for some moments, then moved forward a single step.

“Guess the show’s over,” he remarked with a curt laugh.  He stooped to examine the excavation the bullets had made.  “Quaint cuss,” he remarked a trifle bitterly.  “Just wanted to show me how easy it would be.  All right, my friend, I’m obliged to you.  We’ll quit the gun racket; but next time you show your pretty face I’ll give you a run for it.”

“And get shot,” interposed Bob.

“If it’s shoot, we’ll get ours any minute.  Say,” went on the young man in absolutely conversational tones, “don’t you see I’m mad?”

Bob looked and saw.

“Maybe you think shooting at me is one of my little niece’s favourite summer-day stunts?” went on Elliott.  “Well, uncle isn’t used to it yet.”

His tone was quiet, but his eyes burned and the muscles around his mouth were white.

“He’s probably crazy, and he’s armed,” Bob pointed out.  “For heaven’s sake, go slow.”

“I’m going to paddle his pantalettes, if he commands a gatling,” stated Elliott.

But the mysterious visitor appeared no more that afternoon, and Elliott’s resolutions had time to settle.

That night the young men turned in rather earlier than usual, as they were very tired.  Bob immediately dropped into a black sleep.  So deep was his slumber that it seemed to him he had just dropped off, when he was awakened by a cool hand placed across his forehead.  He opened his eyes quietly, without alarm, to look full into the waning moon sailing high above.  His first drowsy motion was one of astonishment, for the luminary had not arisen when he had turned in.  The camp fire had fallen to a few faintly glowing coals.  These perceptions came to him so gently that he would probably have dropped asleep again had not the touch on his forehead been repeated.  Then he started broad awake to find himself staring at a silhouetted man leaning over him.

With a gesture of caution, the stranger motioned him to arise.  Bob obeyed mechanically.  The man bent toward him.

“Put on your pants and sweater and come along,” he whispered guardedly.

Bob peered at him through the moonlight and recognized, vaguely, the man who had been so mysteriously pursuing them all day.  He drew back.