“Yo better stop, fo’ shuah!” called Pedro, parting his lips in a grin of huge enjoyment. “Dere ain’t no use in tryin’ to git away from me.”
CHAPTER XIII—A CAPTURE IN RECORD TIME
“Look out! He’s mine!” shouted Joe.
But Tom Halstead had sprung in the same instant at Pedro. The result was that the combined assault of the boys bore the fellow to the ground, and Tom, remembering, just in the nick of time, the toy cap pistol that Jennison had handed him, and which had escaped discovery a few minutes before, hauled that ridiculous “weapon” out, pressing it against the temple of the black man.
“Don’t you stir, if you know what’s best for you,” warned the young skipper sternly.
Joe, seeing the lay of the land, leaped up to meet Captain French, who was just reaching that wall.
At that moment the noise of a speeding auto was borne to them, while around the bend whizzed the machine, sending its strong searchlight ray ahead to illumine the scene.
The yells of its occupants caused the other pursuers of the boys to halt in confusion. Before they had time to think what to do the automobile was racing up to the spot and stopping. Alvarez and his two companions bore away up the wooded slope as fast as their alarm could spur them.
“What’s this going on here?” demanded Constable Jennison, as he leaped out into the road.
“You’ll find some of the rascals up there among the trees,” replied Tom, coolly. “I have one of ’em here, but he’s tame now.”