"But if there's a traitor in our midst, what other time is so safe for us?" the leader interrogated. "The only course before us is to strike now and as often as we can, guards or no guards. For my own part I don't believe the gate is guarded." A warm discussion arose among the men, and hot words were bandied to and fro. A few favored the postponement of the intended raid. Several, along with the captain, were inclined to discredit the story that the gate was under guard, and the majority advocated a bold assault, even in the face of danger, which served to lend a certain zest to the act. Through it all Milton Derr stood silent, and offered no advice. "Well! what shall we do, boys--go or not?" asked the leader impatiently. "Put it to a vote." "Agreed!" the leader answered. "All who favor making the raid, step to the right. How many of you? Twenty. A fine showing, my trusty lads! Cowards are in the minority tonight. If one goes, all should go. Only a traitor would hesitate. To your horses!" "Free roads! Down with the toll-gates!" The cry arose in a hoarse howl as the men moved quickly in the direction of their horses. Derr stood hesitating, abashed and vanquished. If he now refused to go along with the others it was but the signing of his own death warrant, and the invoking of swift punishment. He would be proclaimed a traitor, branded as one. Rather would he run the risk of getting killed by the officers of the law than thus incur the enmity of the band, and perhaps suffer the penalty of a traitor's deed. By his presence he might still be of some benefit to the inmates of the toll-house threatened, and possibly through the influence of friends among the raiders the building might be spared and only the pole cut down. If the captain persisted in venting his anger and spite on a couple of helpless and defenseless women, and was fully determined to burn the New Pike-gate, and make a repetition of the Cross Roads affair then--Milt's hand unconsciously grasped the handle of his pistol--the band might be speedily called upon to elect a new leader. Milt slowly followed the raiders down the hill and joined them at the thicket. At a word from the captain the cavalcade set out through the keen frosty air, the clang of many hoofs on the loose stones along the way echoing amid the silent hills, and breaking sharply into the quiet of the night. Now and then, a tiny trail of sparks flashed beneath the flying iron shoes like a nest of glow-worms scattered into the darkness. Around the base of frowning, tall, uprising hills the raiders swept in a swift gallop, now through gloomy rock-bound ways, past quiet farm-houses, by fallow fields, following the winding courses of the road that trailed under the dim starlight like a ribbon of mist between the silent, opaque hills.