CHAPTER X
THE VALLEY OF THE MUSHROOM ROCK
WE were far from laughing now. The calm, everyday tone in which Squeaky had uttered the words, “I shall shoot the boys,” together with what we knew of his character, convinced us that no mercy was to be expected of him; and we trembled. Glancing at my companions to see how they took it, I observed that I was likely to get little comfort from them. Percy was sitting with his eyes unnaturally wide open, staring at Squeaky without a wink; while Jack’s lips were tight shut, and his face, I could see, was quite pale beneath the sunburn.
When I saw how much troubled Jack was I became more alarmed than ever; for Jack was far more likely than I to be able to appreciate correctly the seriousness of our position. Besides which, not having been threatened himself, his fear, of course, was all on our account; and when I thought of that I became cold all over.
I knew that the generous fellow would be taking all the blame to himself if any harm should befall us two, and at that thought another fear drove out the old one. I was afraid he might attempt something desperate for our release.
I can never be thankful enough that that idea occurred to me in time. Even as I thought of it I heard a rustle in the grass, and I saw that Jack, who had been sitting with his elbows on his knees, had drawn one foot beneath him and had placed one hand upon the ground, all ready for a spring at Squeaky. It would have been madness to make the attempt; and without a second’s hesitation I flung my arms around him, crying, “No, Jack, you sha’n’t!”
“Very well, old chap, I won’t,” he whispered in my ear, with a rather husky voice; and at this assurance I sat up again, still holding him by the arm, however.
Squeaky had sprung to his feet, and, covering Jack with his rifle, he said, quietly, “I wouldn’t if I was you.”
“I don’t intend to,” replied Jack; whereupon our captor sat down again, and Percy, who had half risen, sank back upon the grass.
It was a rather curious fact, and it showed the comparative estimate in which we held our two enemies, that, had the rush come, all three of us would have gone straight at Squeaky, entirely forgetful of Bates; though, had we known it, Bates was at that moment quite as dangerous as his leader, perhaps more so, for he was holding his rifle pointed in our direction, and he was trembling so that its unintended explosion was more than a possibility.
The temporary excitement of this incident having abated, our captain once more assumed his former position, and, addressing Squeaky, said: