as if he suspected some hidden meaning beneath that smooth
remark.

CHAPTER IV.

WHEN THIEVES FALL OUT.

Just as the first rays of the rising sun slanted into the hut Mr. Bradby
stirred uneasily, threw out one arm, rolled over on his side, and in an
instant was wide-awake. He sat up abruptly and gazed around. Abel
Cumshaw was still sleeping peacefully, his head pillowed on the
saddle-bags that contained the plunder. Mr. Bradby smiled grimly at the
sight. Softly, without waking his companion, he rose from his rough bed
and glided to the open doorway. He stood there for a moment, drinking in
the fresh morning air.

The sun was just coming up behind the solitary tree that had so
interested him the previous evening, and he noticed that from his
position in the dead-centre of the doorway the sun and the tree were
right in line. Again that curious, humorless smile flickered about the
corners of his mouth. He stood meditating for a minute or so, then, with
an assumption of carelessness that he did not feel, began pacing due
east. He had not taken half a dozen strides before he turned at right
angles to his previous course, and just as nonchalantly continued his
stroll northward. This time he covered about double the distance, then
stopped short and scratched a cross on the ground with the toe of his
boot.

When he returned to the hut Abel Cumshaw was just getting up.

"Hallo, Jack," he greeted Bradby. "Been stirring long?"

"No," said Bradby shortly. Then, perhaps fancying his tone was a little
too abrupt, he continued, "I've just been for a bit of a tour round."

"What do you think of the place?" Cumshaw asked casually. But he did not
look up at his mate; he kept his eyes studiously on the ground.

"Just the sort of place we could make our headquarters," said Bradby,
with an enthusiasm that even the forced restraint of his tone could not
hide.

"I don't think we'll have much need of headquarters once this is over
and done with," Cumshaw hinted.

"Maybe not," Bradby replied.

Cumshaw turned to the plank bed and lifted up the saddle-bags, one in
each hand. "Don't you think we should get rid of these?" he remarked.

"I'd almost forgotten about them," Bradby answered with an assumed
indifference. "Yes, we'll 'tend to them as soon as we've had something
to eat."

"While you're talking about something to eat," Cumshaw told him, putting
the bags down again, "I'd like to remind you that we're right on the
l