Henry led, and, Silent Tom bringing up the rear, they slipped into the open air, keeping close to one another lest they be lost in the thick darkness. Despite the pouring rain and the lash of the wind it felt good out there. They had been so long in one small close place that it was freedom to have again the whole open world about them. The four stood a little while to breathe it in and then Henry led through the underbrush to the top of the hill. "Bend low," he whispered to Paul, who was just behind him. "They must have a sentinel near here somewhere, and we don't want to run into him." Paul obeyed him and went on, but none of them noticed that Tom Ross, who was last, turned softly aside from the path, and then swung the butt of his rifle with all his might. But all heard the impact and the sound of a fall, and, as they whirled around, Henry asked: "What is it?" "The sentinel," replied Ross. "He won't bother us." On they went in single file again, but Paul shuddered. As their flight lengthened they increased their speed, and, when they were a half mile away, Paul jumped, as the long piercing howl of the wolf rose directly in front of him. It was Henry sending the signal to the shiftless one, and in an instant they heard a similar note in answer from a distant point. As they advanced further the signals were repeated and then the shiftless one came with swiftness and without noise through the bushes, rising up like a phantom before them. There were happy handshakes and the five, reunited once more, fled southward through the darkness and rain. "I thought you'd come out tonight, Henry," said Shif'less Sol. "An' I wuz waitin' on the ridge 'til I heard your signal. Ain't it grand fur all o' us to be together ag'in, an' to hev beat Braxton Wyatt?" "It was you, Sol, who were our greatest help." The shiftless one chuckled, pleased at the compliment. "Guess I wuz the flyin' wing o' our little army," he said. "Mebbe Wyatt an' them warriors will hang 'roun' thar two or three days afore they find out we've gone." "Not that long. The head of a warrior met Tom's clubbed rifle as we came away, and if they don't find him tonight they certainly will in the morning." "I don't care anyway. That band can't overtake us, an' it can't trail us on a night like this. Thar! They've found the warrior!" The faint sound of a yell, more like an echo, came on the wind and rain, but it brought no fears to the five. They were quite sure that no pursuit could overtake them now. After a while, they let their gait sink to a walk, and began to pick their way carefully through the dripping forest. As they were wet, all save their ammunition, they did not hesitate to wade many flooded brooks and they felt that when day came their trail would still be hidden from even the keenest of the Indian trailers.