“So thet’s yer answer, is it?” he shouted. “Waal, I’ve bin Simon Lake ter you boys heretofore. Now, by Chowder, you’ll see ther Bully Banjo part of me. Here, Death, an’ you, too, Squinty—take these kids back ter ther cave. Guard ’em close. I’ll hold you responsible fer them, an’ heaven hev mercy on yer soul ef they git away. We’ll see how——”
There came a sudden crackling in the brush behind them. Lake faced round with a motion swift as a wild cat. Zeb Hunt and one or two of the others seized their rifles and plunged off into the underbrush. It was evident that they suspected that a concealed spy had caused the noise.
“Bring him out,” roared Bully Banjo. “I’ll use his hide fer a banjo head, by Chowder!”
But after a quarter of an hour or so, the others returned and reported that they had been unable to find anything. The noise must have been made by some wild animal they declared. At any rate, there was no trace of a human being in the undergrowth.
Much relieved, apparently, Lake ordered the boys taken off to the cave. A few minutes later they were once more in their place of captivity. But this time only their hands and ankles were manacled. But even had their limbs been free, it would have been madness even to dream of escaping, for in front of the cave Death, as remorseless as his namesake, and the sinister Squinty kept watch. Squatting on rocks, their pipes between their teeth and their rifles held loosely on their knees, not a movement of the boy prisoners escaped them.
Evidently, Bully Banjo’s words were law, to be carried out to the letter. Such, at least, would have been gathered from the grim relentless manner in which Death and his companion mounted guard over that cave.
Of what fate Simon Lake had in store for them, of course, the boys could not form the remotest idea, but apparently he meant to keep them in his power till such time as he was certain that he could use them as a power against Chillingworth, whom he rightly felt was the most inexorable enemy he had among the weak-spirited ranchers.
In low tones Jack and Tom discussed the situation, and their guards made no objection to their doing so, apparently. At least, they made no move to interfere. No doubt the boys were not watched so closely as grown men would have been. What could two bound lads do, their guards reasoned. It was not long before they were due to have a striking illustration of what such lads as the Bungalow Boys were capable of.
According to Tom’s way of thinking, Bully Banjo would keep them in the cavern till he and his lieutenants could decide on some way in which they could be used to keep Chillingworth out of the way while Lake ran his Chinamen through by the convenient trail which cut across one corner of the Chillingworth ranch. Of what this way was to be they could not, naturally, form any idea. Possibly, they figured out, it might be by means of a decoy note.
At all events, situated as they were, neither lad was in a mood to waste time on speculation. Rather did they devote their mental efforts to figuring out some way of escape. But, try as they would, they could think of none.