“Are you all right?” Penny asked anxiously, running to his side.
“Yes, I’m okay,” he said, gingerly touching a bruised jaw. “Boy! Is that lad a scrapper? Did you see me push him out of the boxcar?”
“We certainly did, and we were frightened half to death! We thought you would be killed.”
Hobbling over to the fence, Salt confronted his assailant. Webb’s face was a sorry sight. His nose was crimson, both eyes were blackened and his lip was bleeding.
“You may as well come along without making any more trouble,” Mr. Parker told him grimly. “Professor Bettenridge has been taken into custody, and the entire fraud has been exposed.”
“I figured that out when I heard the mine go off,” the man returned sullenly. “Okay, you got me, but I was only carrying out orders. I worked for Professor Bettenridge, but any deals he made were his business, not mine.”
“That remains to be seen,” replied Mr. Parker. “We’ll let you talk to the sheriff. Move along, and no monkey business.”
Having no weapon, Salt and the publisher walked on either side of the prisoner, while Penny brought up the rear.
“You don’t need to hang onto me,” he complained bitterly. “I ain’t going to try to escape.”
“We’re sure you won’t,” returned Salt, “because we’ll be watching you every step of the way.”