The shivering little man nodded.
“Then,” said the widow, “th’ poor young man is lost forever an’ there is na hope for him.”
“You may as well confess everything now,” said Dick, once more fixing Aaron with his piercing eyes. “It can do no further harm to you. Make a clean breast of it—for the widow’s sake, for the one who has warmed, and fed, and trusted you.”
“I will!” said the little man; and in shaking tones he hurried through the confession.
When Dick heard that Budthorne was to be taken to the old castle on the island and held a captive there he sprang up, turning to Nadia.
“We will find a way to save him, Miss Budthorne,” he promised. “Trust us.”
“How can you—how can you against Miguel Bunol and this terrible ruffian, MacLane?” she cried. “Then Aaron says there were more than two of them who attacked Dunbar at the door and struck him down.”
“The other two were Marsh and Durbin. Marsh is a pitiful coward, at best, so that practically reduces their fighting force to three. There are two of us, Brad and myself.”
“And I sure allow we’ll make it a whole lot hot for those three fine gents,” said the Texan, whose fighting blood was beginning to course hotly in his veins. “We know Bunol and Durbin. MacLane may not be half as dangerous as he is pictured. Nadia, we propose to bring your brother safe back to you before morning. You hear me chirp!”