“Why won’t they?” asked Holden.
“Because I captured ther young feller what ye sent frum here last night, to bring Greene, an’ I’ve got ’im a pris’ner, an’ so he won’t carry the news, as ye expected, an’ Greene an’ his army won’t be here--not for a good while, anyhow.”
An exclamation escaped the lips of Tom Dare. “You big ruffian!” he cried. “You say you captured my brother?”
The giant looked at Tom and grinned. “I don’ know whether I captured your brother or not, but I do know that I captured a young feller what was on his way to bring Gin’ral Greene here.”
“That was my brother,” cried Tom, angrily. “Where is he, now?”
“Oh, he’s where I can put my han’s on ’im whenever I want to,” was the reply.
Tom jerked a pistol out of his belt and leveled it, and would have fired at the ruffian, had not Mr. Perkins caught him by the arm. “Don’ shoot, my boy,” he said. “Gurley’s a villain, and needs shootin’, but he’s there under a truce, and we must not shoot him.”
“Oh, all right,” said Tom. “That’s so. I won’t shoot him now, but he made me forget myself when he said he had my brother a prisoner.”
“An’ that’s another reason for not shooting him, Tom. If you only wounded him, he’d most likely take revenge on your brother.”
“That’s so. I never thought of that. But I’ll get even with him for capturing Dick.”