There was no moon to light the way, and the faint starlight that had made easily traceable the white, dust-covered surface of the highway was now absorbed and lost in the dull clay of the lane. Where the trees and bushes overhung the path a dense obscurity prevailed. Both man and beast were familiar with night riding along country byways, however, so the two travelers rode rapidly on, unmindful of the darkness or the twisting road. A mile farther on they quitted the lane, passing through a gate into a fallow field adjoining, which they crossed, and finally came to the outer fringe of a dense thicket. Here they halted, while Steve, placing his fingers to his lips in a certain manner, blew a low, peculiar whistle, like the call of some sombre night bird, which was answered later from somewhere amid the bushes. Close upon the answering call a dark form emerged from the shadowy copse near at hand, and a voice asked gruffly: "Who goes there?" "Friends." "What are you seeking?" "Free roads." "Dismount!" Steve dropped from his horse and went forward to where the dark form stood, while Derr, with his ears alert and lively interest aroused, heard him announce that he had brought one who craved membership with the band. After learning the name of the candidate for initiation, the figure seemed to melt into darkness again, while Steve came back to his horse and companion to await the return of the messenger. "It's all right; come along!" said Steve at another signal from amidst the bushes. The two men quickly hitched their horses to some saplings growing near, and found a narrow path leading down between the underbrush. Steve led the way, Milton following close upon his footsteps, while the mysterious messenger, who wore a half-mask over the upper part of his face, brought up the rear. There was a tinge of romantic adventure about the whole affair that strongly appealed to the new candidate. The path led down to a secluded hollow in the midst of the thicket--a remote and lonely spot, far removed from human habitation, it seemed, and little liable to intrusion--a spot well chosen for a secret midnight rendezvous. In the midst of the copse lay a small clearing, and in its center the three men came suddenly upon a group gathered around a smouldering fire, built of brushwood piled against a log. The uncertain blaze but dimly lighted the scene, but it was sufficient to bring into clearer view the dark forms of a body of men vaguely outlined against the darker bushes surrounding them, while the faces of the members of this secret band were partly concealed under soft slouch hats, and strips of black cloth, such as the guide wore, tied over the upper part of the face, with holes cut in the cloth for the eyes. This partial concealment of the features gave an air of weird mystery to the secret conclave--a touch of the uncanny mingling with the strange and romantic.