"You treacherous dogs! We might have expected such crooked work as this!" he cried. "But you won't escape me, I can tell you!"
"Help, Mason, help!" yelled the coon.
But Mason had discreetly seized the oars, and was then rowing away with all his strength, in a violent effort to escape.
The negro fought with the courage of despair.
But he was no match for Old King Brady.
The great detective gave his wrist a sudden twist that tore it out of the darky's grip, and caught hold of Sim by the throat.
His fingers closed like a vise on the darky's windpipe.
"Down on your knees with you!"
"Oh, golly! Yassah—I go down!"
And down he went.