back, uncertain what to say next, until cross-eyed Harry gave him a
push that sent him staggering through the doorway. The four men
then entered the cabin after him, closing the door cautiously.

Inside the hut they were in comparative darkness, the only light
coming in between the chinks in the log walls. An opening which
had once served as a window was now boarded across, for some unknown
reason. The only furniture in the dwelling consisted of a fine
old mahogany table---sadly out of place---three cheap wooden chairs,
a cupboard against one wall, and a rude bunk beside it covered
with deer-skins. From the cupboard Durgan brought forth a tallow
candle set upright on a broken saucer. Lighting this, he placed
it on the table.

"Sit o'er thar," he said to Hugh, pointing to the bunk.

Hugh obeyed in silence; and the men then gathered around the table,
speaking in tones so low that he could scarcely distinguish the words.

"A strange scene!" he thought, surveying the dingy interior.
"Outside, broad daylight; in here, four scoundrels in candle-council,
planning deeds of darkness; and I, trussed up like a calf, watching
them because there doesn't seem to be anything else I can do. At
least, not just now."

He lay down on the bunk, heaving a sigh of weariness.

Hearing the sigh, Joe Durgan glanced up. "If you'll behave like
a good lad an' not try to run away," he said, grinning, "I'll
untie your hands, and you kin be more comf'table-like. What say?"