The jungle passed, he came to a small clearing overlooking a deep valley. The camp-fire was just ahead. Not a soul was in sight.
"Have they gone on a hunt for me?" he mused, when of a sudden a man leaped upon him and bore him to the ground with ease. The man was Joseph Farvel.
"Turn about is fair play, I reckon," growled the rascal. "Didn't expect to run across me, did you?"
"Let go of me," cried Dick.
"Oh, I'll let go," was the sarcastic rejoinder. "You had lots of mercy on me, didn't you?"
"You started the quarrel, Joseph Farvel."
"Did I? I reckon not. You did that—when you came here after the treasure that belongs to me. Tell me—has your party found anything yet?"
"I won't tell you a word."
"I'll make you!"
"You can't do it."