"What's that?" called out Randy Fairwell.
"Those Rover boys!" ejaculated Arnold Baxter, and his face turned white.
"I said, Hold those men!" repeated Tom. "Don't let them get away from you."
"What for? Who are you?"
"Those fellows are rascals, and the father is an escaped prison-bird," put in Sam. "Hold them or they will run, sure."
"It's false," burst out Dan Baxter. "That fellow is crazy. I never saw him before."
"I guess they are both crazy," put in Arnold Baxter, taking the cue from his son. "Certainly I never set eyes on them before."
"Do not believe one word of what he says," said Tom. "His name is not what he said, but Arnold Baxter, and he is the man who got out of a New York prison by means of a forged pardon. You must have read of that case in the newspapers last summer?"
"I did read of it," answered Randy Fairwell. "But—but—" He was too bewildered to go on. "Where did you young men come from?"
"We were carried off in a schooner hired by these rascals and put in a cave on this island. We escaped only after a hard fight."