"Speak to me about that!" gurgled McGlory. "Why, pard, I was lashed hand and foot and smothered with a gag. I could hear you callin', but it wasn't possible for me to answer you. That was torture, and don't you forget it. What's more, I could hear you and Ping talking, and by turning my head I could see you getting into the boathouse through the window. It was only when George, half-dazed, stumbled over me, that I was able to let any one know where I was. George got the ropes off me, and I'd have gone into the boathouse after you, only the front of it tumbled and blocked the attempt. Then we went around and got in the launch, thinking we'd get in by the water door and give the Sprite a lift into the cove. Before we could do that the buildin' began to cave in, and the gasoline to let go, and then the Sprite came smashing through the door and began dancing a hornpipe out in the lake. Lorry and I manœuvred around until we managed to catch her, and then we brought you across to the clubhouse. That's where the Sprite is now, and she'll be well taken care of by the Yahara boys."
"But the negroes!" exclaimed Matt. "You haven't told me anything about them."
"Keno!" grinned McGlory. "I told the last end of my yarn. I reckon the first end was left out because it don't reflect any credit on your Uncle Joe. Lorry called me at midnight to go on guard duty. I slid out, and hadn't been watching the boathouse more than three hours when a couple of black villains nailed me as I was going around a corner. I was dazed with an upper-cut, and before I could get into shape to do any fighting, they had me on the mat. Then I had to lay there and listen to 'em setting fire to the boathouse, with you, and Lorry, and Ping inside, never dreaming of what was going on. I reckon I'm a back number, pard. It was my fault."
"You can't shoulder the responsibility, Joe," answered Matt. "You couldn't help being knocked down, and tied, and gagged."
"Nary, I couldn't," was McGlory's gloomy rejoinder; "but I might have stepped high, wide, and handsome when I went around that corner. If I'd had as much sense as the law allows I'd have seen that black fist before it landed, either ducked or side-stepped, and then let off a yell. All you fellows inside needed was the right sort of a yell. But I didn't give it. When it came to a showdown, pard, I couldn't deliver the goods."
"I still maintain that you have no cause to blame yourself," persisted Matt. "If George or I had been in your place, Joe, the same thing would have happened."
McGlory bent his head reflectively.
"It's mighty good of you, pard, to put it that way," said he finally.
"Would you know those negroes again if you were to see them?" asked Matt.
McGlory shook his head.