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 in the tent.  I’ll get them and we’ll fix him in a condition of safety.”

Accordingly he went into the tent and a moment later reappeared with two pieces of rope, the strands of which he unplaited and knotted together, end to end, and then tested the knots by straining them across his knee.

“Now, we’re ready,” he said, addressing the prisoner.  “Turn around and put your hands together behind you.  There, that’s right.  I’ll try not to be too cruel, but I must tie this rope pretty tight.  Holler if it tortures you, but I must be the judge as to whether you can stand it.  There, you won’t be able to do any mischief with your hands.  Now, come on; well go into the tent and take care of your lower extremities, as you know we couldn’t afford to let you walk away.  We have to hold you for ransom, you know, and the ransom is three healthy, uninjured boys.”

The prisoner obeyed without a word, and a few moments later he was tied on the ground in the tent with legs also securely bound.

“Now, I’ll proceed to report developments to our radio friend at Rockport,” Cub announced as he and Mr. Baker came out in the open again.

With these words he sat down at the table, donned the phone headpiece and began to work the key.  He had no difficulty in getting into communication with the Canadian amateur again, and gave him a detailed account of what had taken place since his last report of earlier developments.