Fear and terror lent him strength. He struggled desperately to break loose. In the short scuffle that followed he was roughly handled. A blow on the nose from Bogle’s fist partially stunned him and drew blood. He realized the folly of further efforts, and meekly submitted to be dragged back.
“I told you not to be rough,” remonstrated Raikes. “The lad’s nose is bleeding, and there’s blood on the snow. How are you going to hide it?”
“It won’t matter,” replied Bogle. “It’s his own fault. He had no business to struggle. I hit him accidentally. Use your handkerchief, youngster.”
Brick did so, and in a short time the bleeding stopped. He quietly let Bogle search him, and the belt of money that he wore under his clothes, was soon brought to light. The men opened it greedily, and counted over the gold coins and banknotes.
“You’re welcome to that, since I can’t help myself,” said Brick, in a sullen tone. “And now I suppose you’ll let me go.”
Raikes looked at his companion, and shrugged his shoulders.
“No; we won’t let you go,” replied Bogle, savagely. “The cash will do very nicely, but just at present we want you more than anything else. And here’s a word of advice, youngster. You’ll do well to heed it, for I’m not given to idle speech. Keep your mouth shut, and ask no questions. Obey orders, and you shan’t be harmed. If you try to escape, I’ll put a bullet through you. How’s that, Silas?”
“Couldn’t be any plainer,” assented Raikes. “I hope you understand, lad.”
Brick did not reply. He was pretty badly scared by Bogle’s threats, and had no intention of disobeying. The whole affair was a profound mystery. He could not imagine what his captors wanted with him, now that they had all his money.
“I guess they intend to keep me prisoner for a while,” he reflected, “so they will have a better chance to escape.”