“Do you really think they’d hurt Jerry?” asked Bluff, solicitously.
“What do you know of that Waddy Walsh?”
“He was always a cruel chap, that’s a fact. I’ve known him to torture a dog in a terrible way. That was really why he was sent away. Nobody could do anything with him; even the town authorities had to give up the job,” replied Bluff.
“There you are, then. Now, he’s hitched up with a rascal much worse than himself, from all accounts. Think of those bold robberies all around. I tell you that pair make a desperate team, and I shiver to think of what they could do to Jerry if hard pushed. Perhaps, after all, we’d better——”
What Frank was about to suggest was never spoken. Tom Somers jerked his arm to signify that he had better cease whispering; and as Frank twisted his head around to see what had happened to alarm their new comrade, he discovered moving figures approaching from the same quarter they had themselves come out of.
His first thought was that Sheriff Dodd had arrived with his posse. Indeed, it was only with a supreme effort that he refrained from leaping to his feet and wildly beckoning. Then he was glad he had been guilty of no such foolish act, for he learned that this was far from being the truth.
“They’ve come back!” exclaimed Tom, in a low tone, yet plainly disturbed; “looks like they wanted to make sure of me, and had follered us here so as to corral me!”
Then Frank understood. The flight of Pet Peters and his followers had been, after all, something of a bluff, for they had again left the western shore and landed on Wildcat Island; more than that, they were even now creeping toward the cabin, as if bent upon some desperate undertaking!
CHAPTER XX—THE ESCAPE OF JERRY
“One, two, three, four!”