The loss of their valuables had made the boys so angry and indignant that they were little inclined to regard the warning. They soon came to the conclusion, however, that escape was really impossible.
The door was stoutly built, and rendered still stronger by heavy cross bars. The hinges and the bolts were massive. The combined efforts of all four failed to make any impression, and they soon abandoned the attempt.
"Great Caesar! I see it all now," exclaimed Ned suddenly. "That scoundrel is going to carry off our canoes, and leave us to get out the best way we can!"
No one doubted that Ned was right. The boys stared at each other in speechless consternation.
It was bad enough to lose their watches and money, but now they were about to be deprived of everything—clothes, canoes, and tent. It meant the sudden termination of the cruise, and an ignominious return home.
"Let's pound and kick with all our might," suggested Clay. "The door can't hold out forever."
Before any one could reply a heavy tread was heard, and looking through the crevice Ned made the startling announcement that the ruffian had returned.
The boys hardly knew whether to be glad or sorry at this piece of news. They feared a greater misfortune than the loss of all their property.
Crowding close to the crevice—which extended upward the length of the door—they peered eagerly into the room. Moxley had not returned empty handed. He had employed his brief absence in rifling the canoes, and was laden with their entire contents, excepting the dishes and the fishing rods.
He deposited his burden on the sawdust and sat down beside it. Very slowly and attentively he ransacked the bags of clothes, the packets of provisions, and the little japanned tin boxes in which the boys kept paper and envelopes, stamps, fishing tackle, and various other articles.