"
"I am glad to know you, Mr. Bridge," said the youth.
"Oh, I can't tell you how glad I am to know you. I was
so lonely and so afraid," and he pressed closer to the
older man whose arm still encircled his shoulder, though
at first he had been inclined to draw away in some con-
fusion.
Talking together the two moved on along the dark
road. The storm had settled now into a steady rain
with infrequent flashes of lightning and peals of thun-
der. There had been no further indications of pursuit;
but Bridge argued that The Sky Pilot, being wise with
the wisdom of the owl and cunning with the cunning of
the fox, would doubtless surmise that a fugitive would
take to the first road leading away from the main artery,
and that even though they heard nothing it would be
safe to assume that the gang was still upon the boy's
trail. "And it's a bad bunch, too," he continued. "I've
known them all for years. The Sky Pilot has the reputa-
tion of never countenancing a murder; but that is be-
cause he is a sly one. His gang kills; but when they kill
under The Sky Pilot they do it so cleverly that no trace
of the crime remains. Their victim disappears--that is
all."
The boy trembled.
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