"Anywhar, Massah Tom. De others is took prisoners! Come!" And
Aleck almost dragged the boy along.
The Rover boys could readily surmise that Aleck would not act in this highly excited manner unless there was good cause for it. Consequently, as Sam said afterward, "They didn't stand on the order of their going, but just flew." Pell-mell out of the hostelry they tumbled, and ran up the highway as rapidly as their nimble limbs would permit.
They heard several men coming after them, and heard the command "Halt!" yelled after them in both French and bad English. But they did not halt until a sudden tumble on Tom's part made the others pause in dismay.
"Oh, great Caesar!" groaned the fun-loving Rover, and tried to stand up. "I guess I've twisted my ankle."
"Can't you even walk?" asked Sam.
"We ain't got no time ter lose!" panted Aleck, who was almost winded. "If we stay here we'll be gobbled up—in no time, dat's shuah!"
"Let us try to carry Tom," said Sam, and attempted to lift his brother up. But the load made him stagger.
"De trees—let us dun hide in, de trees!" went on the negro, struck by a certain idea. "Come on, quick!"
"Yes—yes—anything!" groaned Tom, and then shut his teeth hard to keep himself from screaming with pain.
Together they carried the suffering youth away from the highway to where there was a thick jungle of trees and tropical vines. The vines, made convenient ladders by which to get up into the trees, and soon Sam and Aleck were up and pulling poor Tom after them.