[CHAPTER XVI.]
THE PRICE OF TREACHERY.
This most astounding event had left everybody gasping. A ghastly pallor had rushed into Sercomb's face. His three companions were hardly in better case. All four realized that the unexpected had happened, and that it boded ill for them.
But Sercomb was not long in pulling himself together.
"Why, uncle!" he exclaimed, forcing a laugh; "this is a tremendous surprise, and a glad one. I have been worried to death about you!"
He offered his hand. Mr. Lawton looked at him steadily. Under that look Sercomb's assurance faded, his hand dropped, and he fell back.
"I would like you better, sir," said the old Englishman, "if you showed the courage to acknowledge what you have done and face the consequences. You must know that I am aware of all that has taken place here; and yet you have the brazen insolence to step forward and offer me your hand!"
"I guess we'd better be going, Sercomb, old chap," said Mings.
"I think so, too," spoke up Balt Finn. "It's getting along toward noon, and we'll get out the car and start north."
"Come on, boys," urged Packard.