"Oh, no, you won't! Slicker, that's your job."
Before Nan could move a soft, fat hand was pressed over her mouth from behind and she twisted about to find that her second captor was the short, fat man who had been the companion of her more dangerous enemy on the boat.
"Come, we're in a hurry," snapped the latter, and Nan's terrified eyes came back to his. "Will you give 'em to us or do we have to take them?"
Nan shook her head, and with a snort of impatience the man laid rough hands upon her and began to search her clothing for the papers. Then, finding nothing, he turned upon her in a towering rage.
"You're a sly one," he growled between his teeth. "But let me tell you this, you little imp——"
"Easy, Jensen, easy," cautioned the fat man, whose hand still covered Nan's mouth.
"If we don't find those papers within the next forty-eight hours," raged the other, not noticing his companion, "you will be mighty sorry. Something is going to happen to you! Get me?"
"You—you brute!" gasped Nan, as the fat man removed his hand from her mouth.
"It won't do you any good to call names, Miss. You get those papers for us. And don't you dare to hand 'em to any of your friends either. If you do—well, you'll be sorry. We are out for those papers, and we are bound to have 'em."
He pushed Nan from him with such force that she stumbled and fell full length on the ground, where she lay, a bewildered heap of indignant girlhood.