CHAPTER XXIV.

A STRUGGLE FOR LIFE.

It is time to take the reader back to the lonely cabin in the swamp.

Brick's daring defiance of his captors fairly petrified them with
astonishment and consternation. There was an ill-concealed twinkle of
admiration in Raikes' eyes. Bogle's expression indicated only savage
anger.

"You won't write a line, eh?" snarled Bogle, with suppressed fury.

"No, I won't," repeated Brick. His voice was a trifle hoarse, but
resolute. "I know what you're after, but you shan't succeed. You've
robbed me of enough money as it is. I won't help you to get any more out
of my father----"

The words were cut suddenly short, for Bogle had fastened on the lad's
throat with the ferocity of a bloodhound. He shook him to and fro,
dragged him half across the room, and then pitched him roughly on the
bed.

Brick staggered to his feet. His face was purple, and he gasped
painfully for breath. He glanced around him, but every avenue of escape
was barred.

"Have you had enough?" demanded Bogle. "Are you ready to write now?"

"No," came hoarsely from Brick's lips.

The brutal treatment had only made him more dogged and determined.

With a savage exclamation, Bogle sprang forward. But before he could
reach the lad, Raikes slipped between the two.

"Hold on, Joe," he pleaded. "You're going about it the wrong way.
Violence won't do any good. Try persuasion."

"Persuasion be hanged," growled Bogle. "I'll bring the obstinate young
fool to terms mighty quick. Stand aside, Silas."

But Raikes did not move. He held his ground, and kept his angry
companion at arm's length.

"Better take my advice, lad," he said, turning to Brick. "I'm peaceably
inclined, and I don't want to see you hurt. You've got to come to terms
some time, and why not now? It's not likely that we would let you slip
through our fingers after going to all this trouble. We're playing for
high stakes, and we intend to win. It's not much we ask of you. And as
for your father--why, ten thousand dollars is only a drop in the bucket
to him. He will gladly pay double that amount to save your life."

"To save my life?" questioned Brick; and the pallor on his face deepened
a little.

"That's just it," resumed Raikes in a coldly stern voice. "If you
refuse to write the letters, you will never leave this cabin alive."

"A bullet through your head, and a grave in the swamp," added Bogle.