When he came close, Tom and Harry stepped aside into the brush to let him go by on the narrow trail.
"Don't get off into the brush that way," yelled Rutter from the distance.
"We're trying to give you room," Tom called.
"I don't need the room yet.

I won't run over you, anyway.

Stand out of the brush, I tell you." Tom good-humoredly obeyed, Harry moving, too, though starting an instant later.
Prompt as he was, however, Tom Reade was a fraction of a second too late.
Behind them there was a half-whirring, half-clicking sound.
Then Reade felt a stinging sensation in his left leg three or four inches from the heel.
"Look out!" yelled Rutter, more excitedly than before.

"Get away from there!" Tom ran some distance down the trail.

Then he halted, laughing.
"I wonder what's on Rut's mind," he smiled, as Hazelton joined him.
Jack Rutter came at a gallop, reining up hard as he reached where Tom had stood.
Again that whirring, clicking sound.