Ignoring the threat, he rushed down the little hill, hoping soon
to find some spot where he could turn off to one side or the other,
hide in shelter, and thus evade the rascals. He was surprised to
find that he had gone so far in his wanderings, that the smugglers'
island was so much larger than it had seemed. For a moment he felt
a vague fear that he had lost his bearings and was running in the
wrong direction.

To ascertain how near his pursuers were, he threw a glance over
his shoulder. This proved fatal to his hopes, for his foot caught
in a tangle of crab-grass and down he came headlong. Over and
over he rolled; and then for some seconds he lay still, a little
dazed by his fall, unable to move. The next minute he found himself
in the grasp of two men.

"Hullo, youngster! What made you try to git away from us?" asked
one of them in an angry tone. He was a short, thick-set, burly man,
with black eyes that seemed to glitter like a serpent's. His huge
hands fastened upon Hugh's arm in a grip of steel.

Hugh replied truthfully but not very wisely: "I'm on my way to camp,
and I want to get there as soon as possible."

"Camp, eh? Who are you?"

"I don't see what that has to do with my being in a hurry to get
there."

"Maybe not, but we want to know where you was hidin' before you hit