suppose I've got to hunt 'em up, and that may
take me till dark, by which time that Mohawk will put in his oar."

He spent a few more minutes searching for something which did not
appear. Then he advanced to a small tree that grew on the edge of the
open space where he had halted, and drawing a large red handkerchief
from his pocket, bent down a small sapling and tied the silk to it. As
the little tree flew back to its upright position, there was enough
breeze to make the signal rise and float in the wind. The man stood off
a few paces, and watched it.

"I can't improve on that," he said to himself. "If they will only look
this way, they can't help seeing it, and it will tell the story; but the
trouble is, there is no knowing when they will take the trouble to look
this way. Faugh! why didn't they leave the whole thing to me? It would
have been ended by this time, and there would have been no after-clap,
but this waiting and bother is what will upset the whole arrangement
unless they come up to time better than they are likely to do."

Impatient as he was, he was obliged to content himself, while he kept an
unremitting watch on the house and its surroundings, occasionally giving
vent to his feelings by a series of expletives. In fact, Worrell, who
now showed himself to himself, as it may be said, was altogether a less
prepossessing character than the one who had so kindly conducted the
fugitives to the hiding-place in the woods, and bidden them sleep while
he watched over their slumbers. Suddenly he started. He had discerned
something for which he was waiting. Moving to the edge of the open
space, he gazed with the keenness of one whose life depended upon making
no mistake as to what he saw. The house which engaged so much of his
attention was a quarter of a mile distant. The wonder was how he
distinguished anything so far off with enough certainty to determine its
character; but he had done so.

"Better late than never," he muttered; "though it looked awhile ago as
if it was to be never. Yes," he added, a moment after, "they are there,
and it won't take them long to find out that I am here."

So it proved; for, in a few minutes there was an answering signal waving
from an upper window of the house in the form of a handkerchief of a
white color, swung by the hand of a man instead of the wind, as in the
former case.

"I don't know as there's any use of my waiting any longer," he growled,
"for I don't s'pose they'll