One of Tom’s movements under the bushes made a slight sound. Neither of the men heard it, but the bull-dog awoke. The animal thrust up its ugly head, sniffing. Then, with a growl it sprang out of the car, dashing into the bushes. Tom had only time to hug the ground more closely, praying that he might escape detection. But the bull-dog rushed straight to the spot of hiding. Too late the young skipper rolled over, to leap to his feet. As he did so, the bull-dog sprang at him. In a moment Tom felt the brute’s teeth at his throat. The teeth did not sink through the skin, but Captain Tom knew that the least movement to shake off the animal would cause those strong jaws to fasten.
Ellis dashed into the bushes after the dog.
“What’s wrong?” shouted Justin Bolton, in a voice of alarm.
“Wrong?” echoed Ellis, glaring down at the hapless young motor boat skipper. “Everything on the list is wrong! Your dog has caught the captain of Delavan’s boat. And the infernal young meddler must have heard every word of our talk!”
CHAPTER XIII
STEALING A SWIFT MARCH
“GR-R-R!” snarled the bull-dog, still holding lightly onto Halstead’s neck, ready to sink his fangs in at the first sign of resistance.
At Ellis’s startling information Mr. Bolton leaped from his car, crossing the road and bounding over among the bushes.
“So we’ve got you, have we—the young man who refused to aid us for a good price?” cried the dog’s owner, exultantly. “Ellis, this isn’t bad news. It’s about the best thing that could have happened. We’ll stuff this young man’s mouth up, tie him and take him to keep his employer company. It reduces the danger of any successful pursuit by the ‘Rocket.’”