"That was Arthur. He had a little gun in his coat pocket and he shot
from inside the pocket. I'd made them drop all the guns they had, I
thought."
"Did you take a crack at him then?" asked Fay, interested.
"Oh, no. I just covered him and made him shell out. As a matter of fact
I don't believe any one of them knew I was hit."
Fay smoked on in silence, glancing from time to time with satisfaction
at the youth opposite. During the passage of these events the day had
not far advanced. The shadow of Harney had not yet reached out to the
edge of the hills.
"Hullo! The kids!" said Fay suddenly.
Two pedestrians emerged from the lower gulch and bent their steps
toward the camp. As they came nearer, Bennington, with a gasp of
surprise, recognised the Leslies.
The sprightly youths were dressed just alike, in knickerbockers and
Norfolk jackets of dark brown plaid, and small college caps to
match--an outfit which Bennington had always believed would attract too
vivid attention in this country. As they came nearer he saw that the
jackets were fitted with pockets of great size. In the pockets were
sketch books and bulging articles.
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