“Broken arm, I think,” said Frank. “He’ll not bother us. How about the two whose heads you bumped together?”
“They’re recovering consciousness, too,” said Jack. “Nothing much the matter with them. We had better tie them up, so they can’t cause us any trouble.”
“Here, take the other fellow’s belt and tie his hands behind his back with it,” said Bob. At the same time, he suited action to word in the case of the nearer of the two, whipped off the fellow’s belt and tied him with it.
“Won’t they try to run away, Bob? Ought we to tie their legs, too?”
“No, we’ll just keep an eye on them. Let’s take a look at the other. If his arm is broken we’ll have to set it somehow, I guess. Rather pitch him in the lake, though. He’s a villainous looking rascal. Tried to choke me, too, and darn near succeeded.”
While Frank kept an eye on the two other prisoners, who had now recovered consciousness and were beginning to realize their situation but lay still under the threat of Frank’s rifle, Bob and Jack examined the third man.
His senses were returning, and he moaned a good deal. Examinations revealed, however, that his arm had not been broken, merely badly wrenched.
“I’m mighty glad of that,” said Jack. “We’d have been up against it to set a broken arm.”
“Oh, we could do it, all right, if necessary,” said Bob. “But I’m glad, too, that it isn’t necessary. But, say, Jack”—with sudden recollection, and an air of anxiety—“there were four more of these scoundrels. We’ll have to look out for them.”
Jack’s voice shook a little as he replied.