"Mr. Farnum won't believe us, of course. The story will sound altogether
too absurd." "What will he do--have us sent to jail as common thieves?"

"Ain't very comfortable in yer mind, are ye, younker?" leered Josh Owen,
hearing the muffled groan that escaped the boy.

Though Josh Owen smoked many pipefuls, time soon began to drag on that
worthy's hands. Hours slipped by.

"I'd no business to let Danny go," growled Owen, uneasily, time after
time, often rising and pacing about, though never straying away from the
two boys. "That young feller thinks a heap too much o' liquor for one
so young. He's spendin' time, as well as money, over in Dunhaven. It
won't be so bad if he don't take too much, and get talkative."

Two or three times Josh thought he heard someone moving in the woods.
Each time he called softly, or signaled, but there came no response.

Despite his inward suffering, Jack Benson dozed at last. So, as he
afterwards learned, did Hal. Yet these drowsings must have been short.
They were filled with horrible dreams of disgrace, imprisonment, and all
the misfortunes that healthy young minds in torment could bring up.

At last Jack awoke, with a start, to realize that it was daylight.

Josh Owen was on his feet, his taste for tobacco gone. He was listening,
peering between the trees, and making many impatient remarks under his
breath.