Indeed they could now hear footfalls coming along behind them. They started to walk too, Don straining Pen hard against his side. Everybody was traveling the same way. Gradually Pen's breast quieted down. "What does it mean?" she asked. "It means I'm one of the searchers for Don Counsell," he said with a chuckle. "Only place they'd never think of looking for me." She looked at him a little aghast. "And I've made good in the job, too," he went on. "I'm considered quite a valuable man. Delehanty has put me in charge of a squad." "Delehanty!" she gasped. "Do you mean you have spoken to him?" "Why not? He doesn't know Don Counsell by sight. None of his men do. The only one who knows me is Riever, and I take damn good care to keep out of his way. Luckily it's easy. He doesn't bother with the rough necks. And you can always see him coming a long way off by his gang." "How did it come about?" she asked. "Most natural thing in the world. My way is different from yours. You plan everything out, and I leave it to the inspiration of the moment. When I tried to get out by the cellar that night I heard a man down there. They had one out on the kitchen porch, too. So I took the screen out of the window on the other side, and dropped to the ground and hid in the shrubbery. I gradually made my way down to the beach. There were some natives camping there, but I was afraid to join them then, so I kept under cover until daylight. In the morning a raft of newcomers arrived from all over, and it was a simple matter to mix amongst them. They didn't all know each other." "But you speak differently from these people," said Pen. "Oh, I kept my mouth shut as much as possible. I gave out that I was Frank Jones from New Jersey, see? That accounted for my Northern speech. I said I was off a coasting schooner. Meanwhile I've been practising their lingo, and I can already speak Mar'land at least well enough to deceive Delehanty and the other Northerners. Doggone it honey Ah reckon Ah kin _tawk_! 'Deed, can I! Gemmen, it's the _trewth_!" Pen laughed down his neck. "Every day that passes makes my position more secure," he said. "I'm becoming known. At least Frank Jones is. This crop of saw-tooth is a wonderful disguise." He softly rubbed his chin against her cheek. Pen liked it. There came a hail from down the road ahead. "Hey, Jones!" They moved apart. Don answered: "Coming!" To Pen he said breathlessly: "How can we meet? ... Oh woman, if you knew how I was hungering for you day and night!" "No! No!" said Pen. "Everything's going so well. We mustn't take risks ... But we ought to have some way of communicating." "Name it quick!" She considered swiftly. "... Do you know my fattening-coop under the tree back of the kitchen?" "I can find it." "There's a little water-pan inside it. Look under that for a letter." "All right," he laughed. "If I'm pinched for swiping chickens you'll have to clear me!"