“I wonder who they can be, to hide off in the woods this way,” whispered Bob.
The next instant there floated out from the hut a cry of anguish. It was the voice of a boy, seemingly in great pain or fear, and the travelers heard the words:
“Oh don’t! Please don’t! You are killing me! I don’t know! I can’t tell you, for I would if I could! Oh! Oh! Please don’t burn me again!”
“It’s a gang torturing some one!” almost shouted Ned. “Let’s go to the rescue!”
He would have sprung forward had not Jerry laid a detaining hand on his arm.
“Wait, Ned,” counseled Jerry. “Some one there evidently needs our help, but we must go with caution. First we must get our guns. We may need them!”
Once more the appealing cry burst out.
“Quick!” whispered Jerry. “Professor, you and Bob go back for the rifles, and bring the bulls-eye lantern that has the dark slide to it. Ned and I will stay here and watch!”
Mr. Snodgrass and Bob lost no time. In less than five minutes they had rejoined Ned and Jerry.
“Has anything happened?” asked Bob.