"We can't stay here any longer," said he; "the troops are gathering all
round us. The country's alive with them, and in a few days we shouldn't
be able to stir from the hollow of a tree without popping into the gripe
of some of our hunters. In the Wolf's Neck they will surely seek us;
for, though a very fine place for us while the country's thin, yet even
its old owners, the wolves, would fly from it when the horn of the
hunter rings through the wood. It won't be very long before they pierce
to the very 'nation,' and then we should have but small chance of a long
grace. Jack Ketch would make mighty small work of our necks, in his
hurry to go to dinner."
"And what of all this--what is all this to me?" was the strange and
rather phlegmatic response of the outlaw, who did not seem to take in
the full meaning of his officer's speech, and whose mind, indeed, was at
that moment wandering to far other considerations. Dillon seemed not a
little surprised by this reply, and looked inquiringly into the face of
the speaker, doubting for a moment his accustomed sanity.
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