It was at this moment that a torch flashed above them, glaring into their upturned faces.
“What’s all this, who are you?” a voice demanded.
“Silence if you value your life,” came from Captain Sparhawk.
“It’s Donald Judson!” exclaimed Billy.
“Billy Raynor,” cried the other in his turn. “How did you——?”
“Don’t utter another word,” ordered Captain Sparhawk. “Put your hands above your head, you young rascal.”
“Not much I won’t!” exclaimed Judson.
He flung his torch full in Billy’s face and then started at top speed for the camp fire, yelling the alarm at the top of his lungs.
For a minute Billy was in peril of losing his balance as the torch struck him. But Salloo caught and held him firmly. The torch dropped with a splash and hiss into the waters of the river below.
By this time Salloo scrambled to the cliff summit and made off after young Judson. Both reached the camp fire at about the same time. The others, following close on Salloo’s heels, saw Donald turn, catch sight of the glittering kriss, and then, with a yell of dismay, tumble headlong. He lay quite still and had apparently been stunned by the violence of the fall.