as opened and they
entered.

But now he was free, save for the short chains that were still fastened
to his wrists, and the plank walls that rose between him and liberty.

But the chains on each wrist were short, and the walls were only plank;
and in Madge's eagerness and haste in fastening him there she had
neglected--or she had not thought it necessary--to search him for his
weapons.

He knew now that there was very little time to spare, and that he and
his three assistants were in a bad predicament.

CHAPTER IX.

THE ESCAPE FROM THE SWAMP.

In the meantime, Patsy had been in half a dozen different kinds of a
brown study. He realized that now the entire situation depended solely
upon him, and that the lives of his chief, and of Chick and Ten-Ichi,
rested wholly in his hands.

He stood, be it said, all alone, in the midst of a huge swamp, from
which escape could only be had by means of a boat, and into which he had
been conducted blindfolded. Around him were men, all ready at any
instant to take his life for the merest excuse; and already the lives of
his three friends were sacrificed unless he could do something--and that
very speedily--to save them.

In the cellar at the cottage he had not dared to look squarely at his
chief, for fear that the inclination on his own part to make some sort
of signal would be too strong for him to resist; and he had known that
Madge was watching every act and motion, as a cat watches a mouse.

When he left the cottage, and had gone as far as the edge of the glade,
he halted, and waited there for Handsome, for he guessed that the man
would be sent away directly; and when Handsome did come, Patsy said to
him:

"Sure, Handsome, will ye tell me what is to be done wid the others?"

"I haven't made up my mind about that yet," replied Handsome.

"And is it left to you that it is?"

"Certainly."

"Faith, but that's fine. I wish it was left to me, so I do."

"What would you do to them, Pat?"

"I'd skin 'em, begorra!"

Handsome laughed.

"Perhaps I will give you a chance," he said. "However, it is likely that
they will go into the quicksand."

"Where is that same, then?"

"Out in the swamp a bit. There is no getting out of it, and it tells no
tales. Once a man is thrown into that, he sinks out of sight in a few
minutes, and that is the last of him. It is our graveyard. There are
about fifty in there now. The place is bottomless."

"Cheerful, isn't it? Sure, m