Lieut. Bradbury could control himself no longer. Flinging Mortlake aside,
as if he had been a child, he flashed out of his place of concealment, mad
rage boiling over in his veins.
What he had just seen had swept every doubt aside. His whole being was
bent on getting hold of the young traitor and trouncing him within an inch
of his life. He felt he would be fulfilling a sacred duty in doing so.
But, as he sprang forward, as if impelled by an uncoiled steel spring, the
two conspirators caught the alarm. While the officer was still rushing
through the bushes, they dashed off, one in one direction, one in the
other.
"He's ruined everything," groaned Mortlake.
"No, no; you can save the day yet if you act quickly," cried old man
Harding in the same low, intense voice, "shout out that you are after the
spy."
"Right!" cried Mortlake, clutching at a straw.
He, too, dashed out of concealment, and took off after the tall man,
bellowing loudly:
"You chase the boy, Bradbury. I'll get the spy. Stop you villain! Stop!"
It was at that moment that Roy, just emerging from the woods, heard Lieut.
Bradbury's angry challenge:
"Prescott, you young scoundrel, I'll get you yet!"
CHAPTER XV.
WHAT MORTLAKE DID.
"Look here," cried Roy, indignantly wiggling in the officer's strong
grasp, "can't you see that this is all a mistake? If you hadn't grabbed
me, I could have caught that impostor.
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