“Up with you now, Arnold,” cried Harry.  “Let’s make time.”

“You first,” gasped Arnold.  “You’re burned and have had more smoke than I. Go ahead or I won’t stir a step.”

“All right,” smiled Harry.  “It’s a good thing the breeze is favorable.  We’ll make it all right now.  Wonder where Doright is.”

“Never mind Doright,” said Arnold, drinking in great draughts of fresh air.  “Doright can take care of himself for all of me.  I want to get back to the boats and the Fortuna.  Let’s be going.”

“I’m with you,” Harry agreed with a satisfied chuckle.

“What’s the matter now?” asked Arnold.  “I can’t see what should amuse you in all this trouble.  I’m worried.”

“I can’t tell you what makes me feel so happy, but I just imagine that we’ve done a good stroke of business tonight.”

“In burning down a man’s home?”

“Yes and no.  I can’t tell you any more for I don’t know.”

“More mystery, eh?  Well, so long as we’re hot-footing for home you may save the mystery.  Come on, now, let’s go.”

The boys lost no time in starting for the place where their boat had been left.  A short conference in the shadow of a clump of palmettos was held.  They were agreed as to the direction, although it lay in a different quarter than the road by which they had entered the clearing.  Here the boys’ woodcraft stood them in good stead.

Soon they were out of the light cast by the now fallen walls of the burning cabin.  Just as they felt safely away from the clearing and thought it safe to speak above a whisper a coarse voice called them to halt.  They were confronted by a tall man.

“It’s that man Lopez,” gasped Harry.  “He’s got back quickly.”

“What do you want?” questioned Arnold angrily.  “Say it and be quick about it.  We haven’t time to stand here all night.”

“Now, don’t get gay, young rooster, or I’ll cut your comb.”

“It is Lopez,” whispered Arnold.  “He’s still angry, too.”

“Put up your hands,” commanded Lopez, for it was he.  “Keep ’em up,” he added.  “I’ll fix youall for this.  You done burned my cabin and it’s got to be paid for.  I’ll settle you.”  Then lifting his voice he called, “Doright!  Doright!  Come yere.”

“Comin’, Boss,” quavered the still frightened negro.

“Doright, did these fellers set fire to my cabin?”

“Yaas, sir, Boss.  Dey sure done hit,” replied that worthy.

“We might as well arrest ’em now as any other time, then,” declared Lopez.  “Take this gun, Doright, and if they try to run, shoot.”

“Yaas, sir, Boss,” grinned the darky.  “Ah sure will shoot.”

“Now, boys, get going,” commanded their captor.  “Walk right up, too, for we’re a long ways from home and I’m tired.”

“How did you happen back so soon?” queried Harry.  “I thought you had gone to town to talk with Wyckoff about hanging us.”