"Put down that cleaver, Lizzie, and let's talk sense. We came here to get Tod Fulton—he's my cousin, you know——" but that was as far as he got.
The girl, her face showing a determination that made nonchalant Phil jump up from his chair and beat a quick retreat, walked up on them, the axe flashing viciously back and forth before her.
"You're going to get off this island," she exclaimed, "and you're going to do it quick. No tricks now! The first one who makes a break gets this axe in the back—and I can throw straight. About face, now. March!"
There was nothing to do but obey. Sheepishly enough the boys turned and meekly let her drive them out into the dark. As she passed the lamp she caught it down from the bracket on the wall with one hand.
Thus they marched across the open ground, along the narrow path and out on the waterfront.
"Our boat is down at the other end of the island" remarked Phil, turning his head ever so slightly.
"I'll have my father bring it over to you in the morning," answered the girl relentlessly. "I see your friends waiting for you over on the other side, so it wouldn't be fair to keep them in suspense."
"You're surely not going to make us try to swim it?" pleaded Phil, pretending great consternation, hoping that he might delay their departure till something might happen to give them the advantage.
"That's not all I am going to do." Setting down her lamp on a convenient rock, and changing her axe to her left hand, she stooped over and picked up a pebble. With a quick jerk she drew back her arm and then shot it out, boy-fashion The boys heard the stone hum as it sailed through the air. An instant, and then a howl of pain arose from one of the Scouts dancing about the blazing camp fire on the other shore. It was a good hundred yards away.
"I just did that to show you what'd happen to you if you didn't head straight for that gang of pirates over there," she said grimly.