They had come upon the Drifter at a point where the ravine spread out and a long level space showed.
"Now then, brisk is the word," spoke the elder Dawson.
He and his son carried the bundle up to the Drifter and managed to stow it aboard. Jerry climbed into the pilot's seat. His father drew some stout double cord from his pocket.
"Tie up those boys hand and foot," he ordered grimly.
"See here, Mr. Dawson," spoke up Dave, "what are you going to do with us?"
"You'll find that out very soon," was the gruff reply.
The two men proceeded to secure the arms and feet of the captives.
Dave knew it was useless to resist the rough treatment he received.
Hiram was not so patient.
"Say, this is an outrage!" he cried out.
"What's the matter with you?" demanded Jerry Dawson, leaning from his seat with a scowl on his face.
"What do you want to tie a one-armed fellow up for?" grumbled Hiram.