"So much the better," replied Old King Brady. "It will end our misery."
"Oh, we won't shoot to kill," growled the scowling rascal, "but we will riddle your carcasses with painful wounds."
"Mason, you're a fiend."
"Am I? That's a compliment."
And with a short laugh he disappeared in the bushes.
Once more the detectives began to call for assistance, for they now were sunk to their armpits in the sand.
Their voices sounded hoarse and smothered, and a despairing feeling was creeping into their hearts, but they kept on shouting.
Presently Mason shouted at them from the bushes in angry tones:
"Are you going to shut up?"
"No!" roared Old King Brady.