“I certainly am,” retorted Don. “I’d like to know what you mean by locking me in here.”
“Well, to tell you the truth,” answered Benito, “we don’t know ourselves yet. We saw you anchor last night and we just waited for you to walk into our trap. We haven’t decided what we’re going to make out of it yet.”
“I see,” nodded the boy. “But you’re sure you are going to make something out of it, aren’t you?”
“To be sure. Frank, be kind enough to hand me the boy’s wallet.”
Don eyed Frank and clenched his fist. “He’s liable to see a whole collection of stars before he sees that wallet,” he said, determinedly. Frank hesitated and looked at the other man.
Benito’s manner changed instantly from the friendly to the business-like, and he frowned in an ugly manner. “Look here, kid, none of that. You hand over your wallet or we’ll just put you to sleep and take it. Don’t think we let you walk in here for nothing. Come on now, hurry up.”
Boiling with anger, Don handed over his wallet. He realized that resistance, under the circumstances, was absolutely useless. Benito took the wallet and glanced through its contents.
“Hum,” he commented. “Fifty dollars in cash and your name is Mercer. Is your father the lumber man?”
“Yes, he is, and he will make things hot for you, if you don’t let me out of here,” Don promised.
Frank raised his eyebrows and looked significantly at Benito. “That means big money, Boss.”