I was fully determined that I would not. I knew that I had never done any of the Swamp Dragoons an injury, and even if I had, they had no right to deal out such punishment as this to me.
“That’s the idee!” said Barney, as Jake and one of his confederates pulled off my coat after untying my hands. “Now loosen up on his feet. That b’iled shirt o’ yourn’ll have marks on it afore we are done with you, won’t it, Tommy?”
“That’s just what’s the matter!” replied Tom, hitting his boots another cut with his whip. “You don’t associate with boys who steal and tell falsehoods, do you? Ten good blows with this rawhide will pay you for saying that!”
Why the Swamp Dragoons were so stupid as to untie my feet, when there was no necessity for it, I do not know; but they did, and it gave me an opportunity to fight for my liberty.
I improved it on the instant. Jake must have been astonished at the weight of the blow that was planted squarely in his face, and so was I; for it drove him against Tom Mason with such force that the latter was knocked fairly off his feet.
This opened a way through the ranks of my enemies, and, before they could lift a finger, to detain me, I had leaped over the prostrate forms, and was running through the bushes at the top of my speed.
I was quite as much astonished at what I had done as the Swamp Dragoons must have been.
I made the attempt at escape, not because I thought it would be successful, but for the reason that I wished to postpone the moment of my punishment as long as possible.
I had fully expected to be knocked down or tripped up immediately; but, having accomplished this much, I began to hope that, aided by the darkness, I might elude my enemies altogether.
This hope, however, was short-lived. There were Indians and bloodhounds behind me, and in less than a minute both were on my trail.