“No use,” chirped Thad, immediately.

“And why not?” asked Maurice.

“They saw us; they know we’re here; that’s why.”

“How do you know that?”

“I just saw a feller bob up along the road there.  He swung his arms over his head as he dropped down into another hollow.  And look, ain’t that some more of the bunch, topping the rise?  I tell you, it’s all off, Maurice; they’ve got us caged.  Why, we can’t run away, and all that’s left is to stay here, grin and bear it.”

Thad sat down as though he believed it absolutely useless to take the least step toward seeking safety in flight, but, indeed, both of them were already partly winded with their efforts, so that anything in the line of running might be deemed mere madness.

“Hide the packet then, quick!  Stick it under that root there, while no one is looking.  Perhaps we can fool them yet!” hissed Maurice, as a brilliant idea flashed through his brain.

“Bully for you, my boy!  That’s the ticket.”

While he was speaking Thad drew the small package from his inside pocket, where he had been carefully keeping it since leaving the boat, and with one quick nervous movement thrust the same out of sight under the convenient root.

No sign remained of his action, and he was fain to believe that no human eyes save his own and those of Maurice could have witnessed the act.

But it was not so.

“Say, they’re coming on the jump!” exclaimed Maurice, who had remained on his feet while the other squatted, the better to carry out the process of secreting the precious packet.

“How many?” asked Thad, between quick breaths, induced by the tremendous excitement of the occasion.

“Don’t know, but a whole lot of ’em.  And every mother’s son seems to be armed with some sort of gun.  A fine chance we’d have against such a husky bunch, if we showed signs of fight.  Yet it does go hard against the grain to give up without striking a blow.”

Maurice gnashed his teeth and frowned while speaking, fingering the lock of his Marlin nervously.

By this time Thad had risen to his knees, an overwhelming sense of curiosity urging him on.

“Why, Maurice, that’s funny!” he exclaimed, immediately

“I don’t see it; what’s struck you now, Thad?”

“Why, don’t you remember what Mr. Stallings told us?”

“Sure I do—­that these swamp rats were about as ugly a crowd to handle as he had ever heard tell of; and I guess he was right; for if I ever saw a tough lot of fellow citizens they’re coming down on us right now, five, six of ’em.  Ugh!” growled Maurice.

“I think you’ll live to take that back, old fellow,” chuckled Thad, who seemed to be far less alarmed than he had been a brief time previously, though still excited.

“What ails you?” asked the other, querulously.

“Look for yourself.  Are those chaps white men or coons?”