“Cal, take care of that box of cartridges I made him drop, and take a lantern and look the boat over. He may have done some damage before trying to steal our ammunition.”
Up to this time the intruder, a huge man of evil countenance, had spoken no word. Now he suddenly took the initiative.
“Who are you fellers, anyhow, and what are you a-doing here?” he asked.
“Curiously enough,” responded Cal, “those are precisely the questions I was going to ask you. Suppose you answer first. Who are you and what are you doing here?”
“That’s for me to know and you to find out,” the intruder replied, truculently.
“Perhaps you’d better reconsider that,” said Cal. “You’re a prisoner, you know, caught in the act of stealing our ammunition, and we are armed. We can chuck you into our boat and take you to a magistrate, who will provide you with jail accommodations for a while. Give an account of yourself. What did you come to our camp for?”
“I come,” he replied with somewhat less assurance in his tone, “to find out who you fellers was, and what you’re a-doin’ here where you don’t belong, and to give you fair warnin’ to git away from here jest as quick as you know how. Ef you don’t, it’ll be a good deal the worse for you.”
“We’ll do nothing of the kind,” broke in Larry. “We’re on land that belongs to Mr. Hayward, a friend of ours, and we’re going to stay here as long as we like.”
“You’ll do it at your own resk, then. You’ve got me hard and fast, but they’s others besides me.”