“You mean am I willing to stake my safety against the major’s hopes of recovering his relative’s hidden fortune?”
“That’s about it—yes.”
Rob’s mind worked quickly. It might be dangerous to give a direct negative and yet he certainly would have refused to do as the rascal opposite to him suggested.
“I—I—Can you give me time to think it over?” he hesitated, assuming uncertainty in decision.
“Yes, I’ll give you a reasonable period. But mind, no shilly-shallying. Don’t entertain any idea of escape. You’ll be guarded as closely here as if you were in a stone-walled prison.”
“I know that,” said Rob, feeling an inward conviction that Hunt’s words were literally true. The cliff-enclosed cove was indeed a prison. Hunt turned away, followed by his son. The latter cast a malevolent look back at Rob as he went.
“My! His father must be proud of that lad,” thought Rob.
Hunt and his followers fell to playing cards. Rob was left to his reflections. Jumbo sat gloomily apart and yet in full view of the card players. After a while Rob’s thoughts reverted to the conversation he had overheard between Dale and Peter Bumpus. In this connection he suddenly bethought himself of something. Jim Dale had spoken of the revenue officers raiding the moonshiners’ plant. If that was the case, and the miscreants had all escaped, how did they go?
The revenue officers probably attacked the place from the lake side of the cove. This would have effectually shut off all hope of escape in that direction. The only conclusion left, to account for the freedom of the gang was a startling one.
The cove must have some secret entrance or exit. If such were the case it could only be by a passage or by steps cut in the seemingly solid rock. Rob’s heart began to beat a bit faster. There might be a chance of escape after all, if only he could discover the means of exit he was now certain must exist somewhere in the cove.