treacherous
antagonist. His fury was greater because of his previous fear.

The wood was dark and thick. Branches brushed against him and hindered
his progress, crawling brambles caught his feet. He could hear nothing
except the noise he made, and as the fit of rage passed away his
caution returned. He was putting himself at a disadvantage, because
his lurking enemy could hear him and would no doubt try another shot if
he came near enough. Stopping behind a fir trunk, with his finger on
the trigger of the Browning pistol, he listened. At first no sound
came out of the dark, but he presently heard a rustle some distance
off. There was another man in the wood beside the fellow who had fired
at him, but so long as he kept still and the others did not know where
he was, he had an advantage over them. They might expose themselves,
and he was a good shot.

He would have liked to wait, but reflected that if he killed or
disabled somebody, he would have to justify his action, and he had
compromising papers in his pocket. He did not want to destroy the
checks or tell his story to the police yet. Then he noticed that the
rustling was getting farther away, as if the man was pushing through
the wood towards the moor behind it, and he turned back
half-reluctantly to the road. After getting over the fence, he kept on
the wet grass, and had nearly reached the end of the wood when he heard
somebody running behind him. The moon was now behind the firs and
their dark shadow stretched from fence to wall. It looked as if Pete
had heard the shot and was coming to his help, but Foster kept on until
he was nearly out of the wood, and then stopped, standing against the
fence, a yard or two back from where the moonlight fell upon the road.
There was no use in running an unnecessary risk.

The steps got nearer; he heard somebody breathing hard, and a figure
appeared in the gloom. Then Foster thrust the pistol into his pocket,
for the man who came into the moonlight was Gordon, whom he had met at
the Edinburgh hotel.

"Mr. Foster!" he exclaimed breathlessly, but Foster thought he was not
surprised, and sitting on the fence took out a cigarette as calmly as
he could. He had Graham's checks and must be careful.

"Yes," he said. "I didn't expect to see you."

"I imagine it's lucky that you knew me," Gordon remarked, rather dryly.
"Well, perhaps we ought to have stopped you at the other end of the
wood."

"You were watching