"But you haf von big lettair of credit, not so?"
"Yes, we have a letter of credit," answered Randolph Rover. "But that won't do you any good, nor the money at the banker's neither."
"Ve see about zat, monsieur. Proceed," and Captain Villaire waved his hand toward Dan Baxter.
"This is the situation in a nutshell, to come right down to business," said the former bully of Putnam Hall coolly. "You are our prisoners, and you can't get away, no matter how hard you try. Captain Villaire and his men, as well as myself, are in this affair to make money. The question is, what is your liberty worth to you?"
"So you intend to work such a game?" demanded Dick.
"That's the game, yes."
"Well, I shan't pay you a cent."
"Don't be a fool, Dick Rover. We are not to be trifled with."
"Well, I haven't any money, and that ends it. You already have all I had."
"Then you will have to foot the bill," continued Dan Baxter, turning to Randolph Rover.
"If you value your liberty you will pay us what we demand."
"And what do you demand?" questioned Mr. Rover.
"We demand twenty thousand dollars — ten thousand for the liberty of each."
This demand nearly took away Randolph Rover's breath.
"Twenty thousand dollars!" he gasped. "It is — is preposterous!"
"Is it? You are worth a good deal more than that, Mr. Rover. And I am demanding only what is fair."
"You shall never get the money."
"Won't we?"
"Never!"
"Perhaps you'll sing a different tune in a few, days — after your stomachs get empty," responded Dan Baxter, with a malicious gleam in his fishy eyes. "So you mean to starve us into acceding to your demands," said Dick. "Baxter, I always did put you down as a first-class rascal. If you keep, on, you'll be more of a one than your father."
In high rage the former bully of Putnam Hall strode forward and without warning struck the defenseless Dick a heavy blow on the cheek.
"That, for your impudence," he snarled. "You keep a civil tongue in your head. If you don't — " He finished with a shake of his fist.
"You had bettair make up your mind to pay ze monish," said Captain Villaire, after a painful pause. "It will be ze easiest way out of ze situation for you."
"Don't you pay a cent, Uncle Randolph," interrupted Dick quickly. Then Baxter hit him again, such a stinging blow that he almost lost consciousness.
"For shame!" ejaculated Mr. Rover. "He is tied up, otherwise you would never have the courage to attack him. Baxter, have you no spirit of fairness at all in your composition?"
"Don't preach — I won't listen to it!" fumed the bully. "You have got to pay that money. If you don't — well, I don't believe you'll ever reach America alive, that's all."
With these words Dan Baxter withdrew, followed by Captain Villaire.
"You think za will pay?" queried the French brigand anxiously.
"To be sure they will pay. They value their lives too much to refuse. Just wait until they have suffered the pangs of hunger and thirst, and you'll see how they change their tune."
"You are certain za have ze monish?"
"Yes; they are rich. It will only be a question of waiting for the money after they send for it."
"I vill not mind zat."
"Neither will I — if we are safe here. You don't think anybody will follow us?"
"Not unless za find ze way up from ze rivair. Za cannot come here by land, because of ze swamps," answered the Frenchman. "And ze way from ze rivair shall be well guarded from now on," he added.
CHAPTER XIX
WHAT HAPPENED TO TOM AND SAM
Let us return to Tom and Sam, at the time they were left alone at Binoto's hostelry.
"I wish we had gone with Dick and Uncle Randolph," said Tom, as he slipped into his coat and shoes. "I don't like this thing at all."
"Oh, don't get scared before you are hurt, Tom!" laughed his younger brother. "These people out here may be peculiar, but — "
Sam did not finish. A loud call from the woods had reached his ears, and in alarm he too began to dress, at the same time reaching for his pistol and the money belt which Randolph Rover had left behind.
"I — I guess something is wrong," he went on, after a pause. "If we — "
"Tom! Sam! look out fo' yourselves!" came from Aleck, and in a second more the negro, burst on their view. "Come, if yo' is dressed!" he added.
"Where to?" asked Tom hurriedly.
"Anywhar, Massah Tom. De others is took prisoners! Come!" And Aleck almost dragged the boy along.
The Rover boys could readily surmise that Aleck would not act in this highly excited manner unless there was good cause for it. Consequently, as Sam said afterward, "They didn't stand on the order of their going, but just flew." Pell-mell out of the hostelry they tumbled, and ran up the highway as rapidly as their nimble limbs would permit.
They heard several men coming after them, and heard the command "Halt!" yelled after them in both French and bad English. But they did not halt until a sudden tumble on Tom's part made the others pause in dismay.
"Oh, great Caesar!" groaned the fun-loving Rover, and tried to stand up. "I guess I've twisted my ankle."
"Can't you even walk?" asked Sam.
"We ain't got no time ter lose!" panted Aleck, who was almost winded. "If we stay here we'll be gobbled up — in no time, dat's shuah!"
"Let us try to carry Tom," said Sam, and attempted to lift his brother up. But the load made him stagger.
"De trees — let us dun hide in, de trees!" went on the negro, struck by a certain idea. "Come on, quick!"
"Yes — yes — anything!" groaned Tom, and then shut his teeth hard to keep himself from screaming with pain.
Together they carried the suffering youth away from the highway to where there was a thick jungle of trees and tropical vines. The vines, made convenient ladders by which to get up into the trees, and soon Sam and Aleck were up and pulling poor Tom after them.
"Now we must be still," said Aleck, when they were safe for the time being. "Hear dem a-conun' dis way."
The three listened and soon made out the footsteps of the approaching party. They soon passed on up the road.
"We've fooled them," whispered Sam.
"But, oh, Aleck, what does it all mean?"
"It means dat yo' uncle an' Dick am prisoners — took by a lot of rascals under a tall, Frenchman."
"Yes, but I don't understand — "
"No more do I, Massah Sam, but it war best to git out, dat's as shuah as yo' is born," added the colored man solemnly.
Poor Torn was having a wretched time of it with his ankle, which hurt as badly as ever and had begun to swell. As he steadied himself on one of the limbs of the tree Sam removed his shoe, which gave him a little relief.
From a distance came a shouting, and they made out through the trees the gleam of a torch. But soon the sounds died out and the light disappeared.
What should they do next? This was