“What are they going to do with us?” Jack wondered. “Poor old Tom,” was his next thought, “knocked down—and—out by that rascal! I wish I was free, although,” he admitted with a sigh, “I couldn’t do much against this bunch.”
Suddenly the boy heard a slight spatter on the dusty ground in front of him.
“Confound it, rain coming up,” he heard Duke explain to himself.
Then the man who stood over Jack’s recumbent form must have looked up at the sky.
“We’re going to get a storm, too,” Jack heard him mutter.
The drops began to fall faster and faster. Out of the distance came a low growl of thunder.
“Hurry up!” Jack heard Duke urge. “Bring that other kid here and tie him. We’ll put ’em both in that old barn. They’re too young to get wet and it is going to be a sharp storm.”
“All right, boss,” came back Blinky’s voice, “we’ve got the money.”
“Well, you know what to do with it. Bring it here,” responded Duke peremptorily.
“You ain’t going to forget us, boss?” came in Duggan’s voice.