Ned caught some of this conversation and his heart sank. It appeared plain enough that their rascally captors had already decided on a place to confine them. Some isolated building, so he judged, though what its nature could be he could not imagine.
"Come, get up," snarled Chance, addressing the lads as soon as his colloquy with Merritt was concluded.
"We will when you take these bracelets off our ankles," rejoined Herc, motioning with his head at the ropes which bound their feet.
Merritt and Chance quickly cut loose the Dreadnought Boys' foot thongs and Ned and Herc stood erect. But if they had entertained any idea of escape, it was quickly cut short.
"See this," warned Chance, tapping a pistol which belonged to Kennell. "It's got a silencer on it, and if either of you try to run you'll get a dose of lead, and, as the report isn't louder than an air rifle, nobody will be the wiser."
Ned nodded.
"I compliment you on your generalship," he said contemptuously.
A few seconds later they moved off. Muller led the way. By his side shuffled a figure strangely familiar to both lads, but neither of them could place it. All their efforts to catch a glimpse of the two leaders' features were cheated too, both by the light and the fact that they kept their faces studiously turned away.
They pressed on for a mile or two through woods and across fields, and presently a whiff of salt-laden air struck Ned in the face.
"We're getting near the sea," he thought. "I wonder if they mean to take us off some place in a boat?"