Silently the Dartaway glided into a regular bower under the trees. It was dark, and made an excellent hiding place. Ned threw out the gear, but the engine was allowed to run slowly.
In their hiding place the motor boys could hear the voices more plainly now. They knew Noddy and Bill were plotting together over something. From the direction of the sound of the voices Noddy and Bill appeared to be upon a small hill overlooking the river.
“I’ve got to have that money,” Bill could be heard to say. “I need it, and if you don’t get it for me I’ll—!”
“It won’t do a bit of good to threaten,” interrupted Noddy. “I’m not afraid of you. You were just as bad as I was in the mine and the kidnapping business. You don’t want to go to jail any more than I do.”
“Maybe not,” sneered Bill, “but I’ve got to have money to live. I could do that in jail without any money, but I can’t outside, which is a curious thing. But I need some cash and you’ve got to get it for me.”
“Where can I get any money?” asked Noddy.
“I don’t care where you get it,” said Bill in no gentle tones. “You can beg it or borrow it—or steal it for all I care. You get some, that’s all, or I’ll go to the police and tell them all I know.”
“You’re trying to blackmail me!” exclaimed Noddy, who, from his voice seemed almost ready to burst into tears. “You’re threatening me.”
“It’s the only way to make you do anything,” growled Bill. “Now I tell you what; if I don’t have some cash inside of two weeks there’s going to be trouble for you.”
“I’m not afraid of you!” cried Noddy, stung to sudden anger by the helplessness of his position.