“A bloomin’ bad one, say I,” said the man Tom was covering, speaking with a slight accent that marked him at once for an Englishman.
“Sorry you gentlemen find yourselves in such a predicament,” said Tom, “but there have been altogether too many mysteries about this lodge to suit us.”
“What you going to do with us?” queried Bill.
“Never mind; you’ll learn that soon enough. How many more are there of you?”
“There’s six in the room below and four more in the passageway,” said the leader, lying glibly. “So you’d better let us go, and take a sneak while you can. We’ll get the best of you in the end.”
“There’s only one more in your party,” said Tom, making a shrewd guess, “and I guess we’ll find a way to get him.”
“Oh, you won’t get any of the others,” said Bill. “They’re out on the river by this time. Don’t you s’pose we leave things clear for our escape when we come over here?”
“You are no doubt deluding yourselves into believing that your friend below will get safely back to the other island,” said Tom, “but it happens that we have three of our boys at the other end of the tunnel, all heavily armed. Now, figure it out, if you can.”
“And somebody’s getting in his fine work,” cried Fleet, as the dull sound of a revolver shot came to them from below.