argument, and for several moments he was unable to make any intelligent
reply. Cub also was nonplused at the "international situation". However,
the ludicrous element of the affair did not escape them, and presently
Mr. Baker was hurling the following heated rejoinder at the spokesman of
the unfriendly four:

"Now, see here, my fine fellow, I'm not going to listen to this nonsense
any longer. My son has been kidnapped by you scoundrels, and I am a
desperate man right now. I am in a mood at this moment to snap my fingers
at international lines, if what you say is the truth. I don't care to
dispute your word on so flimsy a subject. But here is the only compromise
I am willing to make with you. One of you has got to stay here a prisoner
until those boys are returned to us. I'm in dead earnest, believe me. If
you try to escape, I'll shoot, and if necessary, I'll shoot to kill. Now
you come right over here into Canada as quick as ever you know how, for
if you don't, in a very few seconds I'm going to begin to shoot. I'm a
good shot and my bullets will hit your feet first. Your companions may go
and as soon as they bring back those three missing boys you may go, too.
Now, come along into Canada. Hurry up, I'm going to count ten, and if
you're still over there in the United States contaminating the soil and
atmosphere of Uncle Sam with your impudence after I've stopped counting,
I'm going to begin to shoot. If I have to bring you over into Canada,
you'll come on a stretcher--see? Now I'll begin to count--one, two,
three, four, five, six, seven, eight--"

The brave spokesman of the unwelcome visitors collapsed at Number 8 and
shuffled rapidly toward the counter with the automatic pistol. His three
companions, inspired, no doubt, with an eagerness commensurate with his
panic, broke into a run and soon disappeared in the thicket at the rear
of the camp.

"You'd better call after your friends and remind them that it's up to
them to bring those boys back or your fate hangs by a thread," Mr.
Baker advised as he proceeded to examine the fellow's pockets for
dangerous weapons.

But the prisoner was either too sullen or too much frightened to respond
to any suggestion requiring the exercise of wits. He merely obeyed
clear-cut orders and turned a deaf ear to all other utterances on the
part of his captors.

"We'd better secure him so that there'll be no chance of his getting
away," Cub suggested. "There are some pieces of guy-rope