“Hold on, nigger!” said a rough voice out of the darkness.
“What yo' doin'?” the coachman gasped. “Don' yo' know dis de Belle Plain carriage? Take yo' han's offen to dem hosses' bits!”
Two men stepped to the side of the carriage.
“Show your light, Bunker,” said the same rough voice that had spoken before. Instantly a hooded lantern was uncovered, and Hannibal uttered a cry of terror. He was looking into the face of Slosson, the tavern-keeper.
CHAPTER XXVII. PRISONERS
In the face of Betty's indignant protest Slosson and the man named Bunker climbed into the carriage.
“Don't you be scared, ma'am,” said the tavernkeeper, who smelt strongly of whisky. “I wouldn't lift my hand ag'in no good looking female except in kindness.”
“How dare you stop my carriage?” cried Betty, with a very genuine anger which for the moment dominated all her other emotions. She struggled to her feet, but Slosson put out a heavy hand and thrust her back.
“There now,” he urged soothingly. “Why make a fuss? We ain't going to harm you; we wouldn't for no sum of money. Drive on, Jim—drive like hell!” This last was addressed to the man who had taken George's place on the box, where a fourth member of Slosson's band had forced the coachman down into the narrow space between the seat and dashboard, and was holding a pistol to his head while he sternly enjoined silence.