"This is Jim's work," whispered the mate to Captain Lamont. "Nobody else would know about Al."
Captain Lamont repeated Wallace's remonstrance.
"This boy is not a soldier, Captain Yeager," he declared. "I know that to be a fact."
"Well, I got it straight that he is," persisted Yeager, insolently, "so you may as well shut up. Take 'em ashore," he went on, to the men who held Al and Wallace by the arms. Then he added, to the others, "Search the boat."
"Oh, I'm dreadfully sorry, Al," moaned Wallace, as they were pushed and kicked out on the bank. "It's my fault you were taken."
"No, they'd have found me out, anyway," Al answered, smiling bravely at his friend. "I'd a good deal rather stay with you, old man, than to have you face this alone."
The boys were held on the bank while the guerillas went through the barge, taking what they pleased in the way of food and the clothing of the men. They seized no more prisoners and finally came ashore, when Yeager, brandishing a pistol, shouted to Captain Lamont,
"Now, then, cast off an' git out an' don't stop ner monkey around fer two hours, anyhow, er I'll sink yer rotten old tub an' you with it!"
There was nothing to do but obey, and with many glances of profound regret and apprehension at Al and Wallace, standing guarded by a dozen brawny ruffians on the bank, Captain Lamont and his men shoved the barge off and drifted on down the river. As the boys watched the boat recede in the distance, it seemed to them that they had looked their last upon friendly faces, and that the portals of death were closing upon them as the barge finally disappeared.
When the boat was gone, Yeager turned his attention to his prisoners. Seating himself under a tree, he regarded them genially and remarked,