Mr. Sandborn smiled.
“Part of the success of the F. B. I. is due to its ability to meet a situation as it arises. The boys are ready to close in any time I tip them off!”
Mr. Sandborn then gave a cue for silence as Butch was heard coming down the tunnel to relieve Gallagher.
“Take care of these kids, Butch,” Gallagher said; “and watch out fer them. They’re pretty tough kids!”
“I’m scairt to death already, Gallagher!” roared Butch. “Dago’s the man for this job. Why he’d be sick at the thought of it. When he has nightmares it’s on account o’ dreamin’ of these kids here!”
Alone with the boys Butch ordered them to sit on a bench along the opposite wall while he regaled himself with cigarettes and the only easy chair in the underground room. Bluff, sloppy, big-mouthed, Butch would hardly have been recognized as the mean and wanton killer that he really was. His carefree attitude was really a mask to hide the fact that he was a haunted man, expecting any time the bullets that would put a period to his underworld existence.
“So you’re the kids as scare Dago!” he muttered, grinning. “Where’s yer bows and arrows?”
That was just what Stanley and John were wondering. Probably back in the bushes from which the boys had been yanked awhile ago! If only they had those bows and arrows now and a second of time to draw back on the bow strings! Escape they knew they must for, although they felt sure Mr. Sandborn would be able to prevent them from getting hurt, yet they knew that that might also prevent the working out of the F. B. I.’s plans to get both Hegarty and Nevada! They could not sit idly back because they seemed checkmated, and just wait for some one to come along and free them!
“I guess our bows are gone for good,” said Stanley to Butch. “And things don’t look so good for us, either!”
Butch continued to grin.