"How d'ye figger that out? I reckoned the Hawk belonged ter Brady."
"Brady is a thief. He stole a lot of stuff, and the Hawk was sold to help pay back the losses of some of the people who were robbed."
"Oh, ho!" laughed Whipple, huskily, "that's the way of it, eh? An' you an' yer chum bought the Hawk?"
"Yes. If you steal her you'll get into trouble—a lot more trouble than you're in already. I guess you've got more now than you can take care of."
"An' it was you as made the trouble fer us!" cried Whipple, with a black scowl, stepping closer to Matt and shaking a fist in his face. "But you're right at the end o' your rope, my buck. Brady never fergits a feller who crosses his plans like you done. Arter we leave here it won't be you that makes the trouble fer us."
"Is Brady in this?" queried Matt, seeking information.
"He's on deck, you bet, an' we're goin' ter pick him up close ter Willoughby's swamp; then we're goin' ter cross the lake an' come down in a place where we'll be safe fer a spell. While we got the Hawk we're safe from the perlice, all right, but we got our operations ter attend to."
"More robbery, I suppose."
"Suppose what ye blam' please, ye'll never be able ter tell anyone what ye're hearin' from me now. What we're goin' ter do to you an' yer chum'll teach others ter let Hector Brady an' his gang alone. If I——"
Just then a shrill whistle came to the ears of those in the little room.