"What will we do with the kid?" asked the man known as Mike.
"I don't know yet," was the rejoinder in a harsh voice. "Ve ought to throw him in der sea. He knows too much aboudt us."
"That's right, cap," came from Gyp, the pallid-faced man, "it's just as Barton told us, these blamed Boy Scouts are on to us."
"Vell, it don't be goodt to get ridt of him righdt now. Better bring him aboard the boat."
"All right, cap. Come on, you young sneak!" said the man known as Mike.
He gave Rob's arm a vicious twist, and with one of the men on either side of him, and Berghoff walking close behind with the revolver, there was no recourse for Rob but to accept the situation as it came. But in mind he was casting about desperately for a means of escape. None had occurred to him by the time they reached the motor boat, which was moored at a tumble-down wharf, or jetty.
The motor boat proved to be a sixty-foot affair, with a cabin amidships. Into this Rob was gruffly ordered.
"Get aboard now, and look slippy about it," was Mike's way of urging the Boy Scout on board the craft.
Rob obeyed the order with a sinking heart Things looked about as black as they could be, so even his optimistic nature was compelled to admit.