But Bob saw the movement, and, leveling his rifle at the fellow, told him to halt.
“I guess you’ve got the drop on us,” growled the man whom Jerry was covering with the gun. “What’s the game anyhow? Are you stage robbers?”
“We want you to stop torturing that boy,” cried Jerry.
“Why, that’s my kid, and I was only givin’ him a taste of the rod because he wouldn’t mind me; ‘spare the rod and spoil the child,’ is a good saying, you know.”
“Not from you!” snapped the professor. “Is this man your father?” the scientist asked the bound boy.
“Speak up now! Ain’t I your daddy?” put in the leader, scowling at the boy.
“Tell the truth! Don’t let him scare you!” said the professor reassuredly. “We are in charge here now. Is he your father?”
“No—no—sir,” stammered the poor little lad, and then he burst into tears.
“I thought so!” commented the scientist. “Now you scoundrels clear out of here before we cause your arrest!”