He kept his rifle at their ears.
"Doright," he ordered, "go back up to that there path and see what them
folks wants. If they're strangers let 'em go on. If they're the fellers
I think they is, toll 'em along and lose 'em. You'll know where to find
me at the factory if I lose you now."
"Yaas, sir, Boss," grinned the negro. "Ah'm named Doright."
Arnold and Harry were compelled to lie with outstretched arms and
fingers digging into the sand while their comrades parleyed with Doright
in plain hearing of their place of concealment. Neither dared to make a
sound or in any way attract the attention of their friends. Lopez was
swinging the rifle muzzle slowly back and forth.
After Doright and the other, party had proceeded to the destroyed cabin
Lopez compelled his prisoners to get to their feet and walk ahead of him
in the path.
"We'll have a nice little boat ride, boys," stated Lopez in a pleased
tone of voice. "We're going to have a pleasant trip, too."
No answer was made to this remark by either of the boys. Their silence
seemed to anger Lopez, for he upbraided them for their sulkiness. His
moods changed quickly. Frowns tramped the heels of smiles. One moment he
was gay, the next in despair.
Arrived at the leaning oak he compelled the lads to untie both boats,
towing the small skiff that had been brought by Harry and Arnold behind
the big scow rowed by their friends. Into this scow he put the boys and
then seated himself, rifle in hand.
Pages:
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134