"Yes, sir; it's Joe Lufkin that wants you," said the man, picking up Bob's inanimate form and carrying him with all speed toward the house. "I've got fifty dollars, and that's a heap more money than I have had since General Lee's paymaster paid me a whole pocketful of worthless paper for my share in the service. It's good money, too."
Joe conveyed his prisoner to the open door of the wood-shed and laid him down until he could get some cloth and ropes with which to confine him. He had kept his eyes open when he was there before, and knew right where the articles lay. He secured them without any trouble at all, and in a few seconds Bob was helpless. As there was no danger that any one would discover him—it was now pitch-dark—Joe worked with more confidence than he did a while before, and in less than half an hour Bob was lying insensible in the boat under the wharf, and Joe was making good time toward Barlow's saloon. He found the man in front of his house, where he had kept himself ever since Joe began his work, and a very slight sign made him lead the way to his back room. When he had closed and locked the door Joe said:
"I've got the other one."
"Bully for you!" exclaimed Barlow. "Where is he?"
"He's under Scotter's wharf, where I left Ben. You want to be quick in getting him aboard the vessel. He may come to, you know."
"All right. I'll have him there in a jiffy. Now, you stay around here and I'll have that other twenty-five dollars to hand you. You have made a pretty good haul. Fifty dollars for one afternoon's work is more than you can make very day."
Barlow went after his hat, and Joe went out of the side door to the front of the saloon, where he met Samson, the barkeeper. He ought to have been warned by the evil look in that man's eye; but Joe was thinking only of the money that was to come to him and how much pleasure he would take in it, and to know that he had earned it all.
"You are a pretty fellow, I must say," said Samson, in a low tone.
"Why, I didn't do any more than you would have done," said Joe.
"To go around and take twenty-five dollars out of my pocket!" continued Samson. "I was to get something for helping you. Never mind—I will be even with you yet."