“But he knows what we’ve got along.  He may tell some others just as tough as himself; and how could we hold up our end if half a dozen tackled us?” grumbled Thad, as he stalked along at the side of his chum.

“Shall we go back, then?” asked the other.

“Nixy.  I don’t care if there’s a dozen coming, we’re going to get to George all right.  You hear me, Maurice.”

“That’s the right way to speak.  But, after all, perhaps we won’t have the least bit of trouble.  Didn’t you hear Mr. Stallings say the sheriff was abroad with a posse, looking for rascals.  Strikes me that this wouldn’t be a good time for our friend to try any of his tricks.  They use a rope down here for a remedy.  Jails are played out.  There’s no need of bothering any, Thad.”

So they walked briskly along the road, which was, after all, not much of a thoroughfare, and required close watching lest they stray away and lose themselves.

But the storekeeper had given plain directions, so that with proper diligence they should not have any trouble about keeping along the right path.

Although Thad had appeared to agree with his chum that there was no need for worry, it might be noticed that he let Maurice do most of the looking for the right signs that were to safeguard their course.  On his part he felt that necessity demanded that he twist his head just one in so often and scan the rear.

Maurice knew what he was doing, but made no complaint.  Indeed, in secret, he was almost as anxious as Thad, even though he had not seen the man with the red head with his own eyes; and had tried to laugh at the idea of his being the same scoundrel who had tried to rob the shanty-boat further up the river.

After they had placed Morehead Landing some distance in the rear they found themselves in a very lonely place, indeed.

Evidently they must be approaching the swamp spoken of by the friendly storekeeper.  Here and there they could see trailing streamers of Spanish moss clinging to the branches of the trees; and the further they went the more desolate their surroundings became.

“Say, ain’t it enough to give a feller the shivers?” observed Thad, when an owl began to hoot in a mournful way back from the road.

“I must say it doesn’t seem to be particularly cheerful around this region.  But we must be more’n half way there; and nothing’s happened yet,” returned Maurice, stoutly.

“There, what was that?” asked his chum, coming to a sudden stop.

“Where?” demanded Maurice, who had taken his turn at carrying the gun; and as he spoke bringing it half way up to his shoulder, while his thumb played with one of the hammers.

“I saw something moving ahead; sure I did!” declared Thad, shaking that obstinate head of his the whole.

“Perhaps so, but that’s not saying it was a man!  Did it have red hair, do you know, Thad?”

“There you go, Maurice, always making fun of me.  I didn’t see any head, so I can’t say; but it looked like a man creeping off.”