"In burning down a man's home?"
"Yes and no. I can't tell you any more for I don't know."
"More mystery, eh? Well, so long as we're hot-footing for home you may save the mystery. Come on, now, let's go."
The boys lost no time in starting for the place where their boat had been left. A short conference in the shadow of a clump of palmettos was held. They were agreed as to the direction, although it lay in a different quarter than the road by which they had entered the clearing. Here the boys' woodcraft stood them in good stead.
Soon they were out of the light cast by the now fallen walls of the burning cabin. Just as they felt safely away from the clearing and thought it safe to speak above a whisper a coarse voice called them to halt. They were confronted by a tall man.
"It's that man Lopez," gasped Harry. "He's got back quickly."
"What do you want?" questioned Arnold angrily. "Say it and be quick about it. We haven't time to stand here all night."
"Now, don't get gay, young rooster, or I'll cut your comb."
"It is Lopez," whispered Arnold. "He's still angry, too."
"Put up your hands," commanded Lopez, for it was he. "Keep 'em up," he added. "I'll fix youall for this. You done burned my cabin and it's got to be paid for. I'll settle you." Then lifting his voice he called, "Doright! Doright! Come yere."