“Not unless he swims for it—we’ve got both boats!” said a third.
“He won’t try swimming—we could easily overtake him in our boat,” declared the fourth scoundrel, and Tom sensed that this was true.
“Scatter now, and find him!” one of the men ordered, and the hiding youth could hear them crashing about in the bushes looking for him. It was a foregone conclusion that they would find him sooner or later. Tom had not had time to look for a good hiding place, being under the necessity of taking the first one that offered.
So it was no wonder that, a few minutes after he had landed on the island, he heard some one coming nearer and nearer. He tried to force himself farther into the crevice of the rocks, but it was no use. His movements dislodged some small stones which fell with a rattle.
“Here he is!” cried a voice.
The next moment Tom was looking into the leering face of Kenny, and then along came Schlump.
The latter held a revolver, and even without this weapon Tom would have been forced to submit, for the two masked men soon came to the aid of their companions. Tom felt that discretion was the better part of valor in this instance. Besides, he hoped, by submitting quietly now, to escape by strategy a little later.
But he thought he would try a little bluff and bluster first, so he addressed the men with righteous indignation.
“You fellows have nerve!” he exclaimed. “What do you mean by treating me this way? I’ll have you all arrested for this and sent up.”
“Yes. Like you did Barsky, I suppose,” sneered one of the masked men.