It was not so easy a thing to do, considering the fact that his arms were held fast behind him. The man started to obey, but Bob had to help him. Presently, however, he was on his feet, muttering to himself.
“Bob, you hold on to him, and if he makes the first move to run, trip him up, even if he breaks his nose in falling,” remarked Frank.
“That goes!” answered the other, sturdily, as he secured a grip on the prisoner’s arm that told he meant business.
Frank seemed to be fumbling in his pocket.
“What you going to do, Frank?” demanded his chum.
“I’m after a match,” came the reply.
“Oh! you want to take a look at our prisoner; is that it?”
“Shucks! no, not just now. I’m going to find out where he left that bag,” came the reply, as a crackling sound told he had secured the match he wanted.
When the light flared up the eyes of the prisoner were turned on first one of the saddle boys and then the other. Plainly he was amazed at what he saw. Instead of Reddy and Blaisdell he discovered that his captors were only a pair of lads.
Bob had been curious enough to let his eyes seek the face of the prisoner for a second or two. Not that he was anxious to see how the man looked; but what he thought of the situation.