The inference, and Rob’s unshaken manner, appeared to infuriate the youth.
“We’ve got you where we want you now,” he snarled, “it would serve you right if I took all the trouble you’ve caused us out upon your hide. You and that patrol of yours cost us our social position, then that Hopkins kid lost our sloop for us——”
“The sloop in which you meant to decamp with the major’s papers,” put in Rob in the same calm tones, “don’t try to assume any better position than that of a common thief, Freeman.”
With a quick snarl of rage the boy jumped on the helpless and bound boy. He brought his fist down on Rob’s face with all his force. Then he fastened his hands in Rob’s hair and tugged with all his might. But suddenly something happened. Something that startled young Hunt considerably.
Rob gave a quick twist and despite his bonds managed to half raise himself. In this position he gave the other lad such a terrific “butt” that Freeman was sent staggering backward, with a white face. Unable to regain his balance he presently fell flat on the sand. He scrambled to his feet and seized a big bit of timber, the limb of a hemlock that lay close at hand. He was advancing, brandishing this with the intention of annihilating Rob when Stonington Hunt, who had hitherto been an impassive observer, stepped between them.
“Here, here, what’s all this?” he snapped angrily. “This isn’t a fighting ring. Put down that stick, Freeman, and you, young Blake, listen to me.”
“I’m listening,” said Rob, in the same cold, impassive way that had so irritated Freeman.
“You want to regain your freedom and rejoin your friends, don’t you?” was the next question.
“If it can be done by honorable means—yes. But I doubt if you can employ such, after what I’ve seen of you.”
“Hard words won’t mend matters,” rejoined Hunt with a frown, “after all, I’ve as much right to this hidden treasure as anyone else—if I can get it.”