“Are you hurt, Tom?” queried Jack in a shaking tone.

“I guess so,” Tom replied in a dazed manner.  “No, I don’t think I am,” he corrected himself.  “That is,” he continued, “I don’t know just what happened.  I heard you cry out, and as I turned to look, the explosion took place.  What happened, anyway?”

“From the look of your jaw, Wyckoff must have landed a sweeping kick just where the knockout nerve is located,” explained Frank.

“Try to shut your teeth,” suggested Harry.  “If you can shut your teeth all right, nothing serious is to be feared.”

Tom made the effort, but winced with pain.  A grimace stole over his countenance and his hand went up to the injured jaw.

“That hurts, doesn’t it?” solicitously inquired Jack.

“Not much,” bravely protested Tom.  “The most trouble is that I can shut the front teeth, but the back ones don’t seem to meet by half an inch or more.  The jaw must be dislocated.”

In spite of their sympathy the boys could not restrain a laugh.

“I guess that if your front teeth come together your back ones meet,” Jack assured the injured boy.  “Let’s look for Wyckoff.”

“You mean let’s look for Wyckoff’s remains!” Harry tried to put in, but he was stopped by a gesture from Frank.

“Let’s not make it any more horrible than it is.  That man is desperate and I’m afraid of him,” he whispered as they helped Tom to his feet and started away in the direction taken by the outlaw.

“I can’t see him anywhere,” Harry asserted.  “I’ll bet Rowdy has eaten him up body, boots and breeches.  Serve him right, too!”

“We’re the bloodthirsty bunch!” declared Jack.  “It must be some quality in the atmosphere down here.  This is the old region infested by Captain Kidd and his buccaneers.  They must have left something in the way of a piratical germ in the atmosphere.”

“Maybe so, but I’d like to find that dog just now,” stoutly declared Harry.  “He’s had one big meal even if the quality was poor.”

“Follow his tracks,” suggested Frank.  “That’s easy in this sand.  See, here they go.  My word, but he was taking long jumps.”

“He left in such a hurry that he didn’t take my automatic,” declared Tom.  “I guess when he hit me or kicked me I must have closed on the trigger and started the thing going.  He left without waiting to take the gun away from me.  I’m glad of that, too.”

“I see him!” joyfully shouted Frank, who was slightly in the lead.  “Here he is, and Rowdy is mounting guard.  Good old dog.”

It was even as Frank had said.  Rowdy had overtaken the fleeing villain and brought him to earth.  Now he was walking about the prostrate form, occasionally stepping in and taking a nip at an arm or a leg.  Wyckoff, thoroughly cowed, was begging and whining at a great rate.  At the approach of the boys he begged piteously.

“Let him get up, Rowdy!” commanded Jack.  “Now, Wyckoff,” he ordered when the dog had permitted that worthy to regain his feet, “You ’bout face and back to the campfire on the double quick.  It’s getting toward evening and we can’t lay around here all night waiting on you.  We want you for a little while yet.”