the other. "Ah, here comes Mike and Gyp, now. Now ve findt out
what you vos doing up by der hut."

As the spy had said, the two men who had been in the hut came up at the
moment.

Berghoff instantly demanded to know what had occurred in the hut.

"By gosh, cap," said the red-headed man who, it seemed, was "Mike," "it
happened so sudden I can hardly tell you. We goes up there to get them
papers as you told us, and the first thing you know out jumps this young
catamount and hits me a swat on the jaw that 'most put me out fer the
count."

"That's right," corroborated his companion; "that's just what he done,
cap."

"How did he get here?" demanded Berghoff angrily.

"Dunno, unless he flew," rejoined Mike helplessly. "Hadn't we better
search the young varmint and see what he's got in his pockets?"

"Yes, you had better search him at once."

"My last chance has gone," thought Rob as the two fellows seized him
roughly and began rummaging his pockets.

It would have been worse than useless to resist, so Rob submitted to the
search, while Berghoff stood looking grimly on as the papers were
extracted from his pockets by the two ruffians.

"If only I'd hurried a little more," thought Rob to himself bitterly.
"If only I'd hurried, I'd not have been in this predicament now."

"So you almost got avay mit vot you came after," exclaimed Berghoff as
the last of the papers was removed from Rob's pockets and handed over to
the spy; "it voss an inspiration dot made me send my men back by der
huts."

"What will we do with the kid?" asked the man known as Mike.

"I don't know yet," was the rejoinder in a harsh voice. "Ve ought to
throw him in der sea. He knows too much aboudt us."

"That's right, cap," came from Gyp, the pallid-faced man, "it's just as
Barton told us, these blamed Boy Scouts are on to us."

"Vell, it don't be goodt to get ridt of him righdt now. Better bring him
aboard the boat."

"All right, cap. Come on, you young sneak!" said the man known as Mike.

He gave Rob's arm a vicious twist, and with one of the men on either
side of him, and Berghoff walking close behind with the revolver, there
was no recourse for Rob but to accept the situation as it came. But in
mind he was casting about desperately for a means of escape. None had
occurred to him by the time they reached the motor boat, which was
moored at a tumble-down wharf, or jetty.

The motor boat proved to be a sixty-foot affair, with a cabin amidsh