Marjorie was at a loss to understand King’s actions, but she knew her brother well enough to know that his tone and his look meant that something very serious was the matter, and she was quite ready to obey him without knowing why.

But though he grasped her arm, and endeavored to lead her out of the tent, they were suddenly stopped.  Two stalwart men who had been sitting in shadow at the back of the tent came forward, and grasping the children’s shoulders, pushed them back into their seats rather roughly.

“You set down there!” said one of the men, “and don’t you move till you’re told to!  We ain’t decided just what to do with you yet, and when we see fit, we’ll tell you, and not till then, so you just keep still!”

Marjorie suddenly sensed the situation.  These people were enemies, not friends!  She understood King’s efforts to get her away, and she remembered, too, his misgivings as they were on their way across the field.

Moreover, it was she who had insisted on coming, and so she felt, in a way, responsible for what had happened to them.  She jumped to her feet as soon as the man let go of her shoulder, and cried, with flashing eyes, “I will not keep still!  What do you mean by treating me like that?  Don’t you know who I am?  We’re Maynards!  We’re Edward Maynard’s children,—­and everybody loves the Maynards!”

“Oh, they do, do they!” said the man who had spoken before.  “Then that’s a mighty good reason why we should keep you here a little while.”

“Keep us here!” stormed Marjorie, not at all realizing that they were being kidnapped, but merely thinking these people were playing some sort of a joke upon them.  “Why should you keep us here?  We want to go on.”

“You want to go on, do you?” And the man fairly snarled at them; “well, you can’t go on, and you may as well understand that!  Didn’t Jim send you?”

“Yes, Jim sent us,” said Marjorie, remembering what the man who was weaving the basket had said.

“Then if Jim sent you, you’re here to stay.  And as it’s just impossible for you to get away, there’s small use in your trying!  So you may as well make the best of it, and if you don’t want your bread and milk you needn’t eat it, but if you do, you can have it.  There, now, I’m speaking fair by you, and you may as well behave yourselves.”

“Speaking fair by us!” exclaimed Marjorie, who was as yet more indignant than frightened.  “Do you call it speaking fair by us to tell us that we must stay here when we want to go on!  You are bad, wicked men!”

“Yes, little Miss,” was the answer, with a shout of laughter, “we are bad, wicked men!  Now what are you going to do about it?  You don’t fancy for a minute that you can get away, do you?”