While Billy stood there hesitating, the creature gave another of its alarming growls.
There was a swift patter of feet and the eyes vanished.
"Great Christmas, I've scared the creature off," said Billy to himself, with a sigh of relief; "a lucky thing I had that torch."
He walked forward more boldly. The evident alarm of the animal that had scared him, when the torch struck, convinced the boy that there was no more danger to be feared from it. In a few seconds more he was out in the open air and on a hillside.
It was still pitch dark, but the stars seemed to be growing fainter. Billy drew out his watch and, striking a match, looked at it. The hands pointed to three-thirty.
"It will be daylight before long," thought Billy. "If I start walking now I will only lose myself. I'll wait till it gets light and then try to get my bearings."
Never had dawn come so slowly as did that one, in the opinion of the tired and impatient lad. But at last the eastern sky grew faintly gray and then flushed red, and another day was born. In the growing light, Billy stood up and looked about him. The bay or any familiar landmarks were not in sight. Billy was in a quandary. But before long he came to a decision.
"I'll strike out for a main road," he decided; "if I can find one, that will bring me to where I can get some information, at any rate."
With this end in view, he scrambled down the hillside and found himself in some fields. After a half-hour's walk across these, he saw, with delight, that he had not miscalculated his direction. A road lay just beyond a brush hedge.
Billy made his way through a gap and struck off, in what he was tolerably sure was the way to Musky Bay. If he had but known it, however, he was proceeding in an exactly opposite direction. He had walked about a mile when another foot passenger hove in sight.
The lad was glad of this at first, for, although he had walked some distance, he had not passed a house, nor had any vehicles come by. But a second glance at the man who was coming toward him made him by no means so pleased at his appearance. The other foot passenger was a heavily built man with a lowering brow. He wore clothes that savored of a nautical character.
"Hullo, there, young feller," he said, as he halted to allow Billy to come up to him.
"Good morning," said Billy. "I am trying to find my way to Musky Bay. Can you direct me?"
The other looked at the boy with a glance of quick suspicion. "Livin' there?" he asked.
"Yes, that is to say, I'm staying there with friends."
"Umph! I know a crowd of folks there. Who you stopping with?"
Before Billy realized what he was saying he had made a fatal slip.
"With Captain Simms—that is," he hurried on, in an effort to correct his blunder, "I——"
"Know a kid named Ready—Jack Ready?"
"Why, yes, he's my best friend. He—here, what's the matter?"
The other had suddenly drawn a pistol and held it pointed unwaveringly at Billy.
"Jerk up yer hands, boy, and get 'em up quick!" he snarled.
Billy had no recourse but to obey. The man facing him was a hard-looking enough character to commit any crime. With a sudden pang Billy recalled that he was wearing the handsome watch—one of which had been given both to Jack and himself for services they had performed for a high official in Holland, when they rescued the latter's wife and daughter from robbers who had held up the ladies' automobile.
He saw the man's eyes fixed on the chain with a greedy glare. "Hand over that watch," he ordered.
Billy did as he was told. Then came another order while the pistol was pointed unwaveringly at him.
"Now come across with your cash."
Billy handed over what money he possessed—about fifteen dollars. The rest was in a New York bank, and some in a safe at the hotel.
The man looked at the inscription on the watch.
"William Raynor, eh? Your friend was talking about you just before we had to——"
All his fear was forgotten as the man spoke. His tones were sinister. Billy realized, like a flash, that this man was an ally of the Judsons, and must have had a hand in Jack's disappearance.
"Had to what?" Billy demanded. "You don't mean that you committed any act of violence?"
"Well, I'm not sayin' as to that," rejoined the other, who, as our readers will have guessed, was Bill Sniggers, "you'll find out soon enough."
The man was deliberately torturing Billy.
Soon after Jack's escape, Judson had awakened, and had been the first to discover that the boy had got away. A hasty and angry consultation followed, and it had been decided to send Bill, who was not known by sight in the vicinity, out to scout and see if the hunt for the missing boy was up. His astonishment at running into Billy was great. At first, till the boy spoke of Musky Bay, Bill, who was an all-around scoundrel, merely regarded him as a favorable object of robbery when he spied his gold watch chain. Now, however, the boy was a source of danger.
"Come over here, and I'll tell you all about it," said Bill. "Oh, you needn't be scared. I won't hurt you. I got all I wanted off of you. You see your friend got a little uppish after we carried him off, and so we had—to hit him this way!"
The last words were spoken quickly and were accompanied by a terrific blow aimed at Billy's chin. The boy sank in the roadway without a moan. He lay white and apparently lifeless, while Bill, with a satirical grin on his face, regarded him.
"Well, you won't come to life this little while, young feller," he muttered. "I'll just put you over this hedge for safekeeping, so as you won't attract undue attention, and then be on my way."
He picked the unconscious boy up as if he had been a feather and placed him behind the hedge. Then, with unconcern written on his brutal face, the rascal walked on. He was bound for a neighboring village to get provisions; for, till they knew how the land lay, none of the Judson gang dared to leave the deserted house. Bill, in his rough clothes, would attract little or no attention. But the others were smartly dressed and wore jewelry, and Donald had on yachting clothes. Had they been seen they could not have failed to be noticed in that simple community.
"This must be my lucky day," muttered Bill, as he walked along. "I got my pay for that job last night, and now I've got a gold watch and chain and fifteen dollars beside. Tell you what, Bill, old-timer, I won't go back to that old house again. I'll just leave that bunch up there, and beat it out of these parts in my motor-boat. That's what I'll do—go, while the goin's good, because I kin smell trouble coming sure as next election."