“We shan’t be held up,” put in Nick Carter. “I’ll promise you that.”
Jefferson Arnold nodded.
“Stop!”
Jai Singh, with upraised hand, shouted this peremptory order. At the same time he allowed the butt of his lance to drop with a loud bang upon the planks under his feet.
All the men stopped but the one in the lead.
Nick Carter recognized him as the surly fellow they had met when they got off the train, and who afterward had provided them with their boat.
The rascal had demanded enough money to have bought such a boat twice over in India. But on Nick Carter’s whispering that it was the best way to avoid delay, Jefferson Arnold had paid it without demur.
“I could get it for you at about half that price,” Nick had added. “But it would mean several hours of bargaining, and that would keep us here till the morning. It is desirable to get away to-night.”
Jefferson Arnold would rather have paid four times the worth of the boat than be kept another twelve hours in this village.
“What do you want?” demanded Jai Singh now, as the surly native stalked forward.