THE BAG OF DIAMONDS.
Jurgens divined instantly that he had got himself into a serious predicament; but his predicament was even greater than the four boys imagined during the first part of their struggle with him.
The scoundrel fought with the fury of a cornered panther, clawing, kicking and even trying to use his teeth. Dashington exerted himself entirely to prevent an outcry, and this left Matt to do most of the fighting until Carl and Dick hurled themselves through the door and lent their assistance.
With four against him, Jurgens had no hope; nevertheless, his desperation was so great that he vainly tried to continue his one-sided battle.
Carl found a piece of rope somewhere in the hut, and while he, and Matt, and Dashington held Jurgens, Dick put the lashings on his hands and feet and made them secure with hard and fast sailor's knots. A twisted handkerchief tied between Jurgens' jaws relieved Dashington of his part of the work, and the boys got up breathlessly and looked down at their prisoner.
"That's because you didn't play square with me, Jurgens," said Dashington, leering into the baleful eyes of the man at his feet. "I'll back you against all comers, bar none, for being the most treacherous crook in the business. But here's where you get it handed to you. You had it easy, last night, but here's where I give you the merry ha-ha."
Jurgens tried to talk, but succeeded only in emitting an incoherent gurgle behind the twisted handkerchief; then he strained desperately at his bonds, but Dick's knots were never known to slip.
"Oh, cut it out!" said Dashington. "The ball and chain are as good as on you so far as your chances for getting away are concerned. What do you think of yourself, anyway? This is a regular calcimine finish, and you're going to do time enough to keep you out of mischief for quite a spell."
"Vat's dis?" asked Carl, stooping down by the edge of the step and lifting a small canvas bag.