"What you say may be true, and again perhaps it ain't," declared the tall man called Hank; "and I reckon we'll just have to tie you neck and crop, so's to keep you from going back, and bringing a bunch of your tribe down on us. We're in
possession here, and we don't want any more unwelcome guests. Pim, get a cord, and do him up!"
"Oh! please don't. What I told you was the truth, every word. I only wanted to find out if there was another opening to this cave. Don't make me a prisoner, mister! Please let me go!"
Paul shouted these words, and for a purpose. He wished to let his friends know of his predicament, believing that Jack would lead a rescue party instantly; and when three boys start to shouting in such a confined space as a cavern they can make enough racket to cause one to believe a whole army is coming.
The two men were still struggling with their prisoner, and using more or less violence in forcing their wishes upon him, when there broke out a sudden series of whoops that rang through the place.
Half a dozen wildcats engaged in a mix-up could hardly have created more of a racket than did those three lads as they hurried toward the spot where the lighted lantern showed them their chum in the hands of two hard looking customers.
Hank took the alarm immediately. He seemed to be more timid than his companion, who showed signs of being willing to turn and face the advancing enemy until he noted that he had been left in the lurch. Then, growling, and showing signs
of temper, he waddled after Hank, who bore the lantern.
"Paul!" called Jack, as they drew near.
"Here!" came the answer; and then the last match that Jack possessed was sacrificed in order that he might find his chum.