“Look here!” he said again. “I don’t know what your game is, but you’re bound to lose out in the end. My friends will soon rescue us and you’ll be jailed for this. Kidnapping is a serious offense.”
“We took one chance and we got the wrong man,” said one of the fellows, thus confirming Tom’s new suspicions. “Now we have the right one—that’s you—and we’re going to hold on to you. We don’t worry none about getting jailed.”
“We’ve rich friends that’ll soon get us out,” said the man at the wheel.
“Shut up, Torpy!” commanded one of the two in the bow. “Close your trap! You talk too much!”
“Aw, you make me tired!” complained the one addressed as Torpy.
“You can’t bluff us, Tom Swift!” went on the largest of the three scoundrels. “We got you dead to rights now and you’ll tell us what we want to know before we let you go.”
“Oh, so you’re after information, are you?” asked Tom, hoping to draw the men out.
“Yes, we are.”
“What kind?” Tom inquired, trying to wring some of the water out of his coat.
“You’ll find out soon enough when we get to the island.”