Tony had fired one shot, but, seeing Charley rush up to help Dick, letting fly with his revolver as he came, the valiant Tony took to his heels and sprinted off into the depths of the cavern.
Dick lost no time in making Mudd a prisoner.
Clara and Charley lent a hand and with a stout cord, which the latter happened to have in his pocket, they tied the fellow’s hands behind him.
While this was going on Mudd kept up a dreadful racket, calling out in one breath that he was shot and the next begging the boys not to shoot him.
He made so much noise about it that Dick unfeelingly suggested that he was not shot at all and told him he had better hold his tongue.
“Yes I am, too,” growled Mudd. “I know I am. This is a nice way to treat a man who has been deserted by his friend. Miss Clara, you might plead my cause, I think. I was always a good friend of your father’s, as you know very well.”
“What impudence!” exclaimed Clara. “After the way you have used me, too!”
“Don’t see it in that light at all,” returned Mudd. “I haven’t ill used you. Your father owes me money that I can’t collect. I simply detained you until I could collect it—that’s all.”
“If you don’t stop your noise, mister, I’ll put a gag in your mouth!” cried Dick. “Just stand still, will you, and I’ll soon see where you are hurt. Charley, pick up his hat. Clara, hold the lantern. We will straighten this thing out right now.”
It was Mudd’s own lantern, which he dropped when he fell. Clara had picked it up and lighted it again and Dick now made a careful examination of the man, but could find no wound.