But Hugh's active mind was grappling with the matter, and he apparently seemed able to figure things out.
They retreated in a strategic fashion, so that possibly no one was the wiser for their having been behind the bushes, unless Brother Lu chanced to take a notion to peep from behind some fluttering white dimity curtain.
"Well, what does it all mean, do you know, Hugh ?" finally burst out Thad, after they had gone far enough away to make it safe to talk in ordinary tones.
"I think I have guessed why he seemed so tickled after reading the article which we figured would give him such a bad scare," said Hugh, with a grim smile.

"The fact of the matter is he hoodwinked me when he told such whopping yarns about the terrible sheriff of the oil regions.

There may be such a chap, all right, but his name isn't Hastings by a long shot.

He just invented that name, you see; and when he read Jim's article about his being up here, he tumbled to the game." "Oh! it's rotten luck!" groaned Thad; "after all that beautiful strategy we've fallen down flat.

No use talking, Hugh.