"It's that blame fool Charley." There was no longer any possibility of concealment, and Saunders suddenly stood up in the moonlight which had crept close up to the brake, a tall, gaunt figure with the rifle glinting at his hip.
"It's not," he said laconically.

"It's going to be a funeral unless you light out of this." The men did not stop to consider, but vanished on the instant, and Devine, breaking into a little laugh from sheer relief, fancied that they had jumped behind adjacent trees.

Saunders, who stood gazing into the shadows, waved his hand.
"You'll stop right where you are, boys, if you're wise," he said.
"There'll sure be trouble if you come out again." The men did not come out, but there was a smashing of undergrowth as two more came running up.

They were visible for a moment as they sprang out into the open space between the willows and the first of the firs, and then apparently they saw Saunders, for they plunged back among the trees.

The storekeeper sank down behind the fern.
"It's quite a good light, and one of them might have a pistol," he explained half aloud.
Devine considered this very probable; and when there was no sign of their opponents during the next few minutes he once more became conscious that his heart was beating unpleasantly fast.