“You chaps talked pretty loud when you got into your boat over on our side, and a friend of mine overheard you say you were coming here.”
“And what the devil do you want?” asked Brodie.
“Well, in the first place, I wish to introduce my friends here to the old gent,” replied Rusty; “they wants to make his acquaintance.”
“I hope you may find him,” remarked Denton; “he is not here.”
“That’s gammon,” said Rusty Owens.
He sent two of his friends to search the premises, but, of course, they were not successful in discovering Hilton Field.
“Where have you stowed his nibs?” asked Owens.
“He has been stolen from us,” answered Denton. “I don’t know why I should tell you even that much; it is none of your business where he is.”
“You are wrong there, my friend,” remarked Owens; “we have as much right in this business as you have.”
“Put up that pistol!” yelled one of Rusty’s companions.