"That is, by the road.

The way you're going it ain't more'n four!" And this answer made the crowd laugh.
"Four miles," murmured Dick.

"We ought to be able to head them off." "I wish we were armed," came from Tom.

"We may have some desperate characters to deal with." "We might go back and get pistols," suggested Sam.
Dick thought for a moment.

He knew well how desperate their enemies might become.