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Ten to one he had speedily been shot--for the foresters were furious with
themselves, and taken unawares by Dick's appearance in the rear of their
position--but instantly, out of a quarter of the wood surprisingly near
to the two lads, a stentorian voice arose, the voice of Ellis Duckworth.
"Hold!" it roared. "Shoot not! Take him alive! It is young
Shelton--Harry's son."
And immediately after a shrill whistle sounded several times, and was
again taken up and repeated farther off. The whistle, it appeared, was
John Amend-All's battle trumpet, by which he published his directions.
"Ah, foul fortune!" cried Dick. "We are undone. Swiftly, Jack, come
swiftly!"
And the pair turned and ran back through the open pine clump that covered
the summit of the hill.
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