``I'll be doggoned if I didn't think I heerd somebody comin'. I guess 'tain't nuthin',''--looking anxiously to the right and left. ``I cert'nly does git scared out er my boots aroun' here, though, when I'm left alone. I'm goin' to wake up the brat an' make her keep me comp'ny,''--and the door closed with a bang.
He had hardly gone inside when the piteous cry of a child was heard, ``Please don't beat me, Tom.''
``I ain't beatin' yer; go ahead, dance fer me.''
Sandy and Gilbert were fairly crazed, and in their anger rushed up toward the hut.
Again came the cry, ``Please don't hit me, Tom.''
``Dance, I say,''--and the sharp swish of a whip was heard.
It took but a second for Sandy to bound into the room. Surprised and terrified, Foley made a dart for the door, but was met by Gilbert, who, pistol in hand, held him stock still. In desperation Foley reached for a club and ran back of the frightened child in the hope that she might serve as guard against his assailant. Like a flash, Sandy followed, and knocked the cowardly brute senseless with the barrel of his pistol.
Gilbert ran to his sister, and, taking her up, showered loving kisses upon her.
With her arms clasped about his neck and her head nestling on his shoulder, she cried:
``Oh, Gil, I'm so glad you've come. I've been waiting all this time for you. I knew Sandy would come, because he ain't afraid of robbers, or anybody else, even if he had his hands tied behind him. I've been praying for you every minute, and here you are.'' Again Gilbert pressed his sister to his heart, and kissed her.
Young Foley was still lying unconscious, as the result of the blow he had received, and Sandy was clutching him tightly by the throat.
``Take yer sister, little codger,'' said Sandy, ``wrap her up, git in the skiff, an' I'll be with yer as soon as I tie this chuckle-headed idiot fast and tight.''
Gilbert left the hut with Lillian, while the other boy remained long enough to loosen the rope around his waist, and bind the young ruffian securely. Then he placed him in a corner of the room.
Locking the door behind him, Sandy joined Gilbert in the skiff, and together they paddled furiously out of the creek into the river.
The moon was up in all her splendor, and objects on the water were plainly visible for some distance. Lillian was seated in the bow, facing the two boys at the paddles. Leander and Dink fell in the wake of Sandy's skiff, about ten yards in the rear.
As the party reached the middle of the channel, a skiff came into view from the bend, a short way above, and steered directly toward them. With a cry, Lillian stood up:
``Oh, Gil, here come those two bad men that took me away.''
The boys turned, and they, too, recognized Dennis Foley and Hildey as the occupants of the approaching boat.
``Lie flat, little one,'' whispered Sandy, ``an' don't move till I tells yer.''
The child obeyed, but already Foley and his partner had espied her, and it was evident they were using all their efforts to catch up. Leander now called:
``It's the same gang, Sandy, that came out of the creek. What shall we do?''
``Paddle fer all ye're worth,'' was shouted back.
``Hold up, or we'll shoot,'' yelled Dennis Foley.
With that a pistol-shot was heard coming from the direction of the pursuers, but the bullet went wide of its mark, and the boys sped on.
``Don't waste yer load unless yer haveto,'' cautioned Sandy, `` 'cause yer won't have time to put in 'nother, an' I don't want er draw their fire, fer fear they might hit Lily.''
The race had become one of life and death. The boys strained to the utmost their strong young muscles, and, with paddles bent almost double, drove their little craft like the wind before them.
Down past Turtle Creek they flew; Licking Banks were soon left behind, and shortly, they were alongside the Sycamores. Dink looked back over his shoulder, and whispered:
``We ain't gained on 'em a bit, an' they seem to be goin' strong.''
When the Meadows were reached, Dink said again:
``They're comin' like everythin'.''
``Don't weaken,'' urged Leander; ``as long as we're between them and Sandy's skiff, they'll have to kill us before they can get to Lillian.''
The moon was casting its light on the waters like a great silvery path, and the splashing of the paddles was the only sound that awakened the echoes. Again came the sharp report of a pistol, and Dink dodged, as if by instinct. He wheeled in his seat and shot point-blank at Foley, but the ball imbedded itself in the side of the skiff behind and did no further damage.
``That's tit for tat,'' said Dink, ``but it wuz a mighty close call fer me. When the bullet whizzed past my ear I thought I was plugged, sure.''
There were now not more than fifteen yards between the boys and their pursuers. Turning about, Leander saw Hildey raise his pistol and take careful aim at him. Quick as thought, the boy fired first, and Hildey uttered a sharp cry of pain, as his right arm fell helpless, and his pistol dropped into the water.
``Curse the luck!'' muttered Foley.
