CHAPTER XXXII

COPPERHEAD

Before the disconcerting discovery that he was trapped on the island, Dexter had already framed his tentative plans for the future. The capture of the Chicago outlaw at such a time had left him in a rather embarrassing situation. The man was too important a prisoner to take any chance on his escape. But to keep him in custody meant constant danger. Stark was not a person to let a belt full of gold slip through his fingers, and he undoubtedly would scour the woods to find its wearer.

Dexter had decided to play safe. It would be suicidal to push on northward where he was almost certain to encounter members of Stark's crowd; so he had made up his mind to turn back through the valley he had just quitted, make his way out through the southern gateway, and escort his two prisoners to Fort Dauntless. It was entirely possible that he might meet a party of re-enforcing police somewhere on the way. In any event he had discovered the route through the north pass, and after he had delivered Alison and Crill into safekeeping he could have returned with comrades to renew the hunt. Stark probably would continue his operations, and in some way or another the old trail could have been picked up.

But it was too late now to adopt the wiser course. There was nothing to be done but to sit still to wait until the stream might be forded again. And if Crill's companions put in their expected appearance, the corporal must fight them single-handed, with a thousand to one chance against his winning.

Dexter's face was an unreadable mask as he surveyed the turbulent waters, but Crill evidently understood the situation as well as he