Part 8 (1/2)
”Oh, I hope not,” Tom jeered cheerily. ”At all events I'm doing the best I know how. And I'm glad you're not going to make any fuss. I hate to be cranky with anyone.”
The place to which the pier belonged looked, from what Tom had been able to see of it, like a run-down coast farm. Away up on a hill to the left were a dilapidated old farm house and other buildings. Halstead feared, though, that the stranger might have friends up at that house and so decided to keep on through the woods at the right.
Before long they struck a fairly well defined road through the forest, a road that looked as though it might lead to somewhere in particular.
”We'll keep right on along this road, if you don't mind,” said the boy.
He kept now only a fair hold of the other's wrist. As the swarthy one offered no opposition, they made pa.s.sably good speed over the road. But Tom, though he looked unconcerned, was wholly on the alert for any sudden move on the part of his captive.
”If I find I'm wholly in the wrong,” said Tom pleasantly, after they had gone at least a quarter of a mile in this fas.h.i.+on, ”there isn't anyone in the whole United States who'd be more glad to make a complete apology.”
”But that will not save you from trouble,” breathed the swarthy one angrily. ”The laws of your country do not allow such high-handed deeds as you have been guilty of.”
”Down in Honduras the laws are a bit different, aren't they?” asked Halstead very pleasantly.
”Down in Honduras, they--”
The swarthy one checked himself suddenly.
”That is the second time you have asked me about Honduras,” he went on presently. ”Why do you say so much about Honduras?”
”I've trapped you into admitting that it's your country,” laughed Halstead. ”And that tells me, too, why you are so interested in having Ted Dunstan kept out of sight for the next few days.”
”What's all this talk about Honduras?” demanded a gruff voice. The challenge made both jump. A stocky figure stepped alertly out from behind a tree. It was the solidly built, florid-faced man-the other of the pair Tom had first seen in the seat ahead.
”Oh, you, you, you!” cried the swarthy one delightedly, as he wrenched his captive wrist free from Halstead's weakening clutch. ”You have appeared in time, my friend!”
”So?” roared the florid-faced one, taking a business-like grip of Tom Halstead's collar. ”What was this young cub doing?”
”Doing?” cried the swarthy one, dancing in his wrath, his eyes gleaming like coals. ”He had the impudence, this boy, to say he would take me to a constable. He insists that I know all about one Ted Dunstan.”
”Does, eh?” growled the powerful, florid-faced one, giving Tom a mighty shake. ”Then we'll take care of this young man! Oh, we'll give him a pleasant time!”
”Yes, yes! Just as we would in Honduras!” laughed the swarthy one gleefully. ”He has been asking much, just now, about the way they do things in Honduras.”
”Then he'll be sure to be just the lad who'll appreciate a little information at first hand!” jeered Tom's captor.
CHAPTER VI-TOM HAS A BAD QUARTER OF AN HOUR
”So the youngster was going to be high-handed with ye, was he?” demanded the florid-faced one, and despite the intense darkness there in the woods, Tom Halstead could see the ugly gleam in his strong-handed captor's eyes.
The swarthy one stepped to the other side of his friend and whispered something in that worthy's ear. It was a rather long communication.
Though he tried with all his might to overhear some of it, Halstead could not distinguish a single word. Yet, as the narration proceeded, Tom felt that powerful grip on his coat collar increase in intensity.
”Well, we'll take care of you, youngster,” declared the florid-faced one at last. ”You're too big a nuisance to have at large! And as you've been giving your time to other folks' business, we'll take good care of your time after this! Come along now!”
Tom had not tried to resist and for a most excellent reason. He well knew that his present captor could fell him like a log. Here no contest of muscles was to be thought of. Craft must be subst.i.tuted for strength.
In the boy's brain revolved swiftly many plans for escape. Just as the florid-faced one started to force him over the path lately taken the right idea came to the young captive. He puckered his lips, emitting a shrill whistle.