Sparwick paused, and drove the boys into the cabin ahead of him. He followed with the sleds.
Jerry and Hamp stared eagerly at their surroundings. They saw Bogle leaning against the table with a savage and wondering expression on his face. Then they spied some one else, and heard a familiar voice call them by name. The next instant they were kneeling on the bed beside Brick, trying to clasp his fettered hands.
“We’ve come to save you,” declared Jerry. “Your troubles are over now. Your father won’t have to pay that money, either. Sparwick is helping us, you know. We told him that you would give him five hundred dollars if he saved you. That’s why——”
The sentence was broken off short, for just then Bogle strode forward. His face blazed with anger. He clapped one hand on Raikes’ shoulder.
“What the deuce does this mean, Silas?” he demanded, hotly. “Have you lost your senses? Why did you turn back, and bring this rabble here? Do you want to ruin everything?”
There was a brief pause. The boys looked on with thrilling and anxious interest. They expected to see Raikes seize and overpower his comrade.
Imagine their surprise, then, when Raikes leaned over, and whispered a few words into Bogle’s ear. The two strolled amicably to the farthest end of the cabin, where they sat down on a bench, and began to talk in low tones.
Sparwick propped himself carelessly against the door, with his hands in his pockets. He studiously kept his eyes averted from the bed. As for the three lads—well, they were not a little puzzled by such strange proceedings. They were at a loss to account for them.
“I hope what you told me is true,” whispered Brick. “It don’t look much as if Bogle was a prisoner, though.”
“No; it don’t,” admitted Jerry. “I’m afraid there’s a hitch somewhere.”