had them within his range of vision each boy was lying as before, his
hands behind his back.

With a heartless chuckle, Dan turned back for one last look at his uncle.
Jack rose, almost fearing to breathe. Hal started to follow suit.
There was some swift stealthy toe-work. Just as Dan Jaggers turned more
sharply Jack Benson hurled himself through the air, catching and
clutching at his enemy's neck. Both rolled over together, Dan, with his
greater strength, fighting like a panther and bear in one.

It was Hal Hastings's chance. As he darted forward he espied a
serviceable-looking stick on the ground. He snatched it up with a
single breathless swoop, then poised himself over the struggling
fighters, stick uplifted.

Down came that slender cudgel, striking Dan a light blow squarely top of
his head.

"O-o-ow! Help! Quit that!" screamed Dan Jaggers.

"Lie still, then," commanded Hal, sternly. "And let go of Jack, or I'll
use this stick for I'm worth."

Brave enough while he thought he had a good fighting chance, Dan cowered
under the menace of that club. He submitted to being rolled on his back,
pleading:

"Don't club me! I'll be quiet."

"See that you are, then," ordered young Benson, kneeling on his