“We’re looking for some scoundrels,” said the Texan, in a low tone; “and I certain reckon we’ve found them. Get ready to board that boat, and be prepared to fight.”
“I warn you to keep off!” angrily shouted the voice of the unseen man. “We’ll have to defend ourselves.”
“If you’re on the level,” said Dick, “you have nothing to fear from us; but we are determined to make an investigation and find out who and what you are.”
“We may fire on you.”
“Better not.”
“We can. You are in the light, while it is impossible for you to see us.”
“If you do any shooting, you’ll regret it.”
During this “game of talk” the pilot was manipulating the steamer as skillfully as possible, the bell tinkling nervously and frequently in the engine room.
Dick felt something touch his leg and glanced down. Dunbar Budthorne, agitated and cowering, was crouching on his knees in the shadow of the rail at the boy’s feet.
“Get up!” muttered Dick, in a low tone. “Don’t let them see they have frightened anybody. We must bluff this thing through.”