In a twinkling the guide fell upon him, too.
"What on earth does this mean!" demand Benson, freeing his right hand and doing all in his power to fight.
The spot was fearfully lonely. Captain Jack remembered, in a jiffy, all the gruesome tales he had heard about the dread doings of the Black Hand. Brave though he was, the young submarine expert felt suddenly cold and creepy, though he did not once think of giving up the fight.
"Now, be still you!" ordered the late guide, plaintively. "We not want to hurt you. But, if you make us—"
"Be still, behave, and you be all right," promised the other Italian, in a gruff appeal for reasonableness.
Though he tried to fight like a savage, Jack Benson soon found himself being yanked to his feet, while a stalwart laborer held him by either arm.
"You see, you can do nothing," advised the Italian who had thrown the boy. "You not want to get hurt? We no want hurt you, but if you be one big fool, then—!"
"What's the meaning of this rough game?" Jack demanded, hoarsely.
"You be verra good, no make noise, come with us and wait little while, then you go loose bimeby. Make fight, and well—then we no can help!"
That statement, coupled with the sinister, menacing tone, was sufficiently clear. It didn't take the submarine boy more than a few seconds to realize that he was helpless, and that the most sensible thing to do would be to go along, provided no worse violence than had already been used were attempted.