Jerry had sense enough to obey. He was wide awake now and knew that he was at the mercy of a Mexican robber. The man was struggling to undo the lad’s money-belt about his waist, and it was this that had caused the boy’s vivid dream.
Jerry had been kicking his feet about rather freely, but now he stretched out and submitted to the mauling to which the robber was subjecting him. If only Ned would awake, Jerry thought, for Ned, he knew, had his revolver ready in his hand.
With a yank the thief took off Jerry’s belt containing the money.
“Lie still or you die!” the fellow exclaimed.
Then he moved over to where Ned reclined on the bed. Jerry could see more plainly now, for the storm had ceased, the moon had risen and a stray beam came in the side window of the house-boat. The robber stretched out his hand to Ned’s waist. He was about to reach under the coat and unbuckle the money-belt, when Ned suddenly sat upright. In his hand he held his revolver, which he pointed full in the face of the marauder.
“Drop that knife!” exclaimed Ned, for the Mexican held a sharp blade in his hand.
“Bah!” the fellow exclaimed, but the steel fell with a clang to the floor.
“Now lay the money-belt on the bed, if you don’t want me to shoot!” said the boy, pushing the cold steel of the weapon against the Mexican’s face.
“Pardon, señor, it was all a joke! Don’t shoot!” the fellow uttered, in a trembling voice, at the same time tossing the belt over to Jerry, who had drawn his own revolver from under the pillow where he had placed it.
“Light the candle, Jerry,” went on Ned, “while I keep him covered with the gun. We’ll see what sort of a chap he is.”