e other. "They've
given us enough trouble already!"

"You're a foxy old gink!" exclaimed Sandy. "I wish I had you on South
Clark street, Chicago, for a few minutes!"

"So that's why you came to the cabin is it?" asked George.

"Certainly," replied Cameron. "I had an idea that you'd follow me away!
You see I figured it out exactly right!"

"Why did you want to make trouble for us?" asked Sandy.

"Because you're too smart!" answered Cameron.

"What do you mean by that?"

"When you sat sizing me up in the cabin while I was eating supper,"
Cameron went on, "you informed me as plainly as words could have done
that you knew me to be the man who had abducted your friend."

"You didn't show that you knew," George suggested.

"I tried not to show that I knew," answered the other.

"What'd you steal Bert for?" asked Sandy.

"I needed him in my business," answered Cameron.

"Come, don't stand here all night talking with the little gutter-snipes!"
exclaimed Cameron's companion. "We've got work to do!"

"March along, then, boys!" Cameron ordered.

The lads were now pushed forward into a cavern which opened on the shelf
of rock where they had been taken prisoners. The opening in the mountain
side seemed to be of considerable size, for the boys passed from an
outer chamber of fair dimensions to two smaller ones further in.

In the last of these chambers, on a huddle of blankets, lay the boy for
whom they had been searching.

"Is he dead?" asked Sandy.

"No such luck," snarled Cameron.

"If you'll untie my hands, I'll look after him," George said.

The bonds were cut and George bent over the still figure.

"Has he regained consciousness at all?" he asked.

Cameron turned to his companion.

"Tell them, Fenton," he said, "whether the lad woke up during my
absence. You were here all the time?" he added.

"Yes, I was here all the time!" answered Fenton. "And the lad never
opened his eyes once. That was a deuce of a blow you gave him, Cameron!"

"And what did you gain by it?" demanded Sandy.

"We'll show you directly what we gained by it!" Cameron answered.

Seeing a bucket of water at one side of the cavern, George carried it
over to the heap of blankets where the boy lay and began bathing his
forehead and wrists. The boy groaned feebly but did not speak.

"What did you hit him with?" asked George angrily.

"The handle of my gun!" was the sullen reply.

"Why?" asked Sandy.

"Because I wanted to get a pa