agreed Stanley. Then resolutely, “We must try to escape.”
“I’m tied so tight my blood can hardly circulate,” groaned Bub. “If we escape it must be at night; that is, providing we are released from these trees.”
“Them younkers are whispering,” drawled the third man, busy with the coffee.
“Catch ye at it ag’in and I’ll hurt ye bad,” growled Pete, slouching up to them and scowling into their white faces.
“I was saying my blood has stopped circulating,” replied Bub in a weak voice. “I guess I’m going to faint away.”
Pete studied them for a moment undecided, and Stanley added, “Why can’t you let us lie on the ground? We can’t get away.”
“What d’ye think, Joe? Shall I rope ’em up on the ground?” asked Pete.
Joe came over and examined the two critically. “Mebbe ye’d better. They’d be no use if they croaked before we’ve got what we want from them. Unhitch ’em.”
It was a great relief to the youths to find themselves on their backs, although tightly bound. But in releasing them from the trees the men took care to separate them so that they could not converse without being overheard.
