“But come, we’re wasting time here,” struck in another voice, that of Watson Camberly, although, of course, Ned, burning with indignation in his hiding place, did not recognize it. “We must get over to the island. Will you come with us willingly, Lockyer, or shall we have to bind you?”
“You need not bind me,” was the bitter reply. “I cannot see how I could well be more helpless.”
“I am glad you realize at last that we have the whip hand,” snarled the voice of Ferriss.
“Gradbarr, you stay here and guard the car,” ordered Camberly the next moment, after an interval, in which Ned could feel them leaving the auto. “We’ll take the boat out to the island and return before long.”
Ned listened to their retreating footsteps for a few minutes. As they died away, he heard Gradbarr walking about the car, doubtless trying to keep warm, for the fall air was sharp as it blew in off the Sound. But still as he lay, the lad’s mind was hard at work. Presently, and very cautiously, he raised the leather flap which hung in front of his place of concealment and peeped out. The guardian of the car was leaning against the front wheel with his back to Ned. He was whistling in a low key. Any one seeing him would little have imagined what nefarious business he was engaged in. Ned’s mind was made up in a flash. He must act now, or not at all. Before long, there was no doubt from what he had heard, that the others would be back.
Gripping his weapon tightly, he noiselessly slipped out of the tonneau, the side door of which had been left open. Before Gradbarr could make any preparations, or indeed was even aware of what was happening behind his back, the ruffian was startled by a sudden voice in his ear.
“Don’t move an inch, Gradbarr, or there’ll be trouble.”
“What!” roared out the startled rascal, and would have said more, but that at that instant he felt a certain chilly disc pressed against the back of his neck, which instinct told him was the muzzle of a pistol.