At the captain's arrogant words, flung at Derr in the wake of a scornful laugh, the riders began to move slowly in the direction of a near-by cedar thicket darkening the entrance to the quarry. At this spot the horses were hitched, guarded by a member of the band, who at the same time guarded the approach to the rendezvous.

Milton Derr stood motionless, silent and defiant, with tightly compressed lips, and in his dark eyes a vengeful, half exultant light.

Should he let them go unwarned? This was an easy and speedy way to even up with Jade Beddow for his insulting words, and his intended blow to Derr through the downfall of the New Pike gate.

Silence on the part of his enemy would surely bring harm this night to the captain of the band, and also to the raiders themselves, yet many of these were Milt's friends, and must not be sacrificed to his own hot anger and hatred of one man. This were cowardly. It was his duty to speak out plainly for their sakes. Understanding this, he made a sudden move forward, and called out sharply:

"Listen to what I have to say!"

As the men looked back he raised his hand warningly. "The captain has given you his reasons as to why I have so frankly spoken against raiding the New Pike gate tonight, now I will give you mine."

He paused a moment and looked around on the waiting crowd.

"It's because the plans of the night-riders have been found out, and a posse of men are now waiting at the gate to give a warm welcome to those who come."

At his words a sudden confusion fell among his listeners, as when a bomb is exploded in the ranks. The men stood irresolute, alarmed, looking first at the captain, then toward the spokesman, whose tall dark figure loomed up against the background of gray rock dimly outlined by the expiring fire.

The captain hesitated, uncertain what move to make; then he came back a few steps to where Derr stood.

"How do you know this?" he asked sharply.

"I know it," answered the other quietly, "and that's enough."

"But how do you know it? Who told you?" The leader grew insistent.

Derr compressed his lips and made no answer.

The captain gazed at him steadfastly some moments, then turned abruptly toward his men.

"You have heard what he says, boys, that our plans are found out, and the gate under guard. If this is true, there's a traitor in our midst, and this is his work."

A deep silence followed these suggestive words. The men glanced furtively at one another, as if a sudden distrust had arisen, specter-like, among them. The band separated into little groups and fell to talking in low tones among themselves, with now and then a suspicious look shot in Milton Derr's direction, but he stood silent and impassive, a little apart from the others, seemingly oblivious of these glances, or of the words to which they gave rise.

"This may be only a hatched up tale to scare us off," suggested the captain at last, looking inquiringly around him.

"Remember I have given you all fair warning," Milt said quietly, looking beyond the leader to where the men stood in scattered groups.

"Who is your authority for this report?" the captain once more asked.

"I learned it, that is all you need to know."

"When did you hear it?"

"In time to warn you."

The captain turned away with an impatient gesture and a muttered oath. "Perhaps it wouldn't be a hard matter to tell how the toll-gate people learned of it," he said with meaning emphasis in his tone.

"There may be something in this, after all, so what's the use of running into danger when you can steer clear of it?" asked one of the raiders. "The New Pike gate will keep till another time."

"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.

Still on and on the horsemen rode, sometimes dropping into a slower gait, then spurring their horses anew, with never a jest as they rode along, nor a fling of laughter or song to the darkness—a shadowy, silent band with suggestion of deep-set purpose in the ominous quiet they maintained. When at last they swung around the curve of the pike and came in sight of the New Pike gate, the captain drew rein and called a brief halt.

"Go forward!" he commanded, selecting Derr for the mission.

"Let me go! I'm not afraid!" hastily cried another member of the band, as Milton hesitated and seemed on the point of refusing. It was Steve Judson who spoke, and there was a touch of eagerness in his voice as he made the request.

"I have chosen the one to go," said the leader sternly. "If the gate is guarded, as he seems to think is the case, he is on better terms with the toll-takers an' their protectors than any of us."

"Aw, let me go!" persisted Steve. "That's always been my duty, an' I'm not afraid to shirk it now. Send me ahead!"

"You stay here!" commanded the captain decisively. "I've got other work for you when the time comes."

"Go forward!" the captain continued, addressing Milt. "If you find the coast clear, ride on beyond the gate, then signal us, an' guard the road from that point."

"I have told you that I believe the gate to be guarded," answered Derr quietly. "I have warned you that it was to be. Do you command me to ride into almost certain danger?"

"If you know it to be guarded, you stand in no danger from your friends," answered the leader coldly. "If we find you have betrayed us you will stand in very great danger from your enemies."

"I have not betrayed you, I have only warned you," insisted Milt.

"Then you should be willing to share the danger with us. A brave man never fears danger if his duty demands it. Go!"

"I will go, then, since you command it. Remember, though, comrades," he added, turning to the members of the band who were nearest to him, "if I fail to get back, my blood be upon this man!"

He turned and rode quickly through the darkness toward the New Pike gate.