hem. They carried a big saw on their
shoulders. They said they could work until near noon, and then they must
lay off until you passed and then try to load and get out at night. They
went on--not entirely from sight--and began cutting a tree. Mr. McLean
told me the other day what would probably happen here, and if they fell
that tree he loses his wager on you. Keep to the east and north and
hustle. We'll meet you at the carriage. I always am armed. Give Angel
one of your revolvers, and you keep the other. We will separate and
creep toward them from different sides and give them a fusillade that
will send them flying. You hurry, now!"

She lifted the reins and started briskly down the trail. The Angel,
hatless and with sparkling eyes, was clinging around her waist.

Freckles wheeled and ran. He worked his way with much care, dodging
limbs and bushes with noiseless tread, and cutting as closely where
he thought the men were as he felt that he dared if he were to remain
unseen. As he ran he tried to think. It was Wessner, burning for his
revenge, aided by the bully of the locality, that he was going to meet.
He was accustomed to that thought but not to the complication of having
two women on his hands who undoubtedly would have to be taken care of in
spite of the Bird Woman's offer to help him. His heart was jarring as it
never had before with running. He must follow the Bird Woman's plan and
meet them at the carriage, but if they really did intend to try to help
him, he must not allow it. Allow the Angel to try to handle a revolver
in his defence? Never! Not for all the trees in the Limberlost! She
might shoot herself. She might forget to watch sharply and run across
a snake that was not particularly well behaved that morning. Freckles
permitted himself a grim smile as he went speeding on.

When he reached the carriage, the Bird Woman and the Angel had the horse
hitched, the outfit packed, and were calmly waiting. The Bird Woman held
a revolver in her hand. She wore dark clothing. They had pinned a big
focusing cloth over the front of the Angel's light dress.

"Give Angel one of your revolvers, quick!" said the Bird Woman. "We will
creep up until we are in fair range. The underbrush is so thick and they
are so busy that they will never notice us, if we don't make a noise.
You fire first, then I will pop in from my direction, and then you,
Angel, and shoot quite high, or else very low. We mustn't really hit
them. We'll