"
CHAPTER XIV.
A CLOSE CALL.
We were standing in a brushy pocket on the side of a hill, and as there
was no immediate danger of our being seen, MacRae continued, by the aid
of the glasses, to follow the movements of our would-be captors.
"D'you know that plunder can't be far away; those fellows haven't had
much time to make their _cache_," he reflected, more to himself than to
me. "I wonder how they accounted to Lessard for us. Just think of
it--somewhere within twenty miles of us there's in the neighborhood of a
hundred thousand dollars of stolen money, planted till they can get it
safely; and the men that got away with it are helping the law to run us
down. That's a new feature of the case; one, I must say, that I didn't
look for."
He lowered the glasses, and regarded me soberly.
"They fight fire with fire in a grass country," he observed. "The
Mounted Police are a hard formation to buck against--but I've a mind to
see this thing to a finish. How do you feel about it, Sarge? Will you go
through?"
"All the way and back again," I promised recklessly. I wasn't sure of
what he had in mind, but I knew _him_--and seeing that we were in the
same boat, I thought it fitting that we should sink or swim together.
"We'll come out on top yet," he confidently asserted.
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