“Could they carry it away without a boat?”
“Y-e-s,” Frank admitted, slowly. “Besides, they may have a boat.”
“I’d like to know what kind of a cargo you’re talking about,” said Case, half-angrily. “It can’t be much if two men could carry it through these jungles in their naked hands.”
He looked Frank questioningly in the face as he spoke, but the latter did not fall into the trap. He maintained his accustomed silence regarding the character of the cargo he had entered the thicket to find.
“Ask him what he’ll take to let us go?” suggested Case, directly.
“We haven’t got anything to give,” objected Frank. “You can’t bribe a fellow with hot air.”
“If I could,” replied Case, sniffing at the heat of the fire and the heat of the heavy air that breathed out of the forest, “I could do some bribing. But this chap would rather have one of our searchlights than own the First National Bank of Chicago. Try him on that!”
“We haven’t got any searchlights,” answered Frank, dejectedly, taking note of their electrics in the ham-like hands of their captors. “Those men have taken them. They seem to be preparing to leave, and perhaps I’ll soon have a chance to talk with Ugly, as they call him. See! The men are pointing toward the boat I suppose they’ll be going there next.”
“I hope the boys will give them a red-hot reception!” Case exclaimed in so loud a tone that one of the Englishmen turned and scowled in that direction.
“What you lads grumbling about?” he demanded. “If you want to keep whole heads on your necks, you’d better stow that chin. Ugly is a bit nervous to-night, and his gun might go off.”