“I don’t care who you are.”
“You don’t, eh?”
“I certainly don’t.”
“You will change your mind later.”
The scene was a curious one, the two men in the runabout seated with their hands high above their heads, while the man in the road stood as coolly intimidating them as if not the slightest danger existed for him, either from them or the sudden approach of some intruders upon the scene.
Nick had begun the conversation with the scamp in the hope of catching him napping for an instant, or that some person or another automobile might appear; but neither of them seemed probable, for the woodland road was deserted, and the highwayman did not for a second relax his vigilance or lower his leveled weapons.
With Nick Carter’s last remark, however, the rascal’s eyes took on an uglier gleam, and he evidently decided that he had better not defer making his escape. That he was clever in so doing, and foresaw that his victims might possibly be armed, appeared in the way he accomplished it.
With both men constantly under his eyes, he said sternly:
“The slightest move by either of you will cost him his life. I warn you that I shall instantly fire, not caution you again; so keep that in mind, and be wise.”