They do not trust swine to carry words--Ah!" Oscar dropped below the wall as Zmai struck at him; when he looked up a moment later the Servian was running back over the meadow toward the sheepfold.

Oscar, angry at the ease with which the Servian had evaded him, leaped the wall and set off after the big fellow.

He was quite sure that the man bore a written message, and equally sure that it must be of importance to his employer.

He clutched his revolver tight, brought up his elbows for greater ease in running, and sped after Zmai, now a blur on the starlighted sheep pasture.
The slope was gradual and a pretty feature of the landscape by day; but it afforded a toilsome path for runners.

Zmai already realized that he had blundered in not forcing the wall; he was running uphill, with a group of sheds, another wall, and a still steeper and rougher field beyond.