A dangerous glitter in the man’s eyes showed that Clay’s question was not at all to his liking.

“How them canoes got here is none of your business,” he answered emphatically, “and I don’t want no argument about it. Step lively now in the direction of that mill.”

The mask was off, and the boys realized that they were prisoners. Their captor’s sullen features and the gun that he bore on his shoulder forbade any attempt at escape.

With sinking hearts they trudged along the shore a few feet in advance of the ruffian. They had no doubt that their companions were confined in the mill, and it was some consolation to know they were going to join them. Why they had been captured at all, and what object was to be gained by it was a mystery too deep for comprehension.

From time to time the tramp uttered a brief order, and in this way he drove the boys before him, across the sluiceway, and then over the rickety floor of the mill to the lower corner. He unbolted the closet door and shoved them roughly in.

It was not by any means a joyful reunion for the Jolly Rovers, but they were very glad to be together again nevertheless. A crevice in the door admitted some light to the closet, and at the same time afforded a view of Mr. Moxley, who was then sitting on the sawdust heap, examining the contents of his grain bag.

He drew out two dead chickens, half a dozen ears of corn, and a quantity of apples and pearsa sure proof that he had secretly been plundering some farmer. He began to munch one of the apples, and the boys took advantage of the opportunity to narrate their adventures in low, whispered tones.

When all had been told the mystery was no nearer solution than beforein fact it was even more complex.

“I can’t imagine why this fellow has gone to such trouble and risk to capture us all,” said Ned. “I hardly think he will do any harm. We must wait patiently and see what happens.”

“I can’t understand that warning Nugget and I received,” added Clay. “I hope the man will keep his word and help us out of this scrape.”

“I wouldn’t count on that,” replied Ned; “and yet there may be more in it than we suppose.”

“Hush!” whispered Randy with his eyes to the crevice. “Here comes the tramp.”

Moxley rose and approached the closet. He partially opened the door, and then walked back a few paces behind one of the logs.

“Now step out, you chaps,” he commanded sternly. “I have a little business to attend to, and I want it done quietly.”

The boys tremblingly obeyed, and when they were grouped before the door the ruffian added, “Now go through your pockets and lay everything you have on this log. See that you don’t keep anything back.”

It was hard to submit to this audacious robbery, but there was no alternative. Moxley had the gun in his hands.

The boys deposited all they had about them on the logwatches, money, keys, fishing tackle, and handkerchiefs. The fellow made them turn every pocket inside out, and when he was satisfied that all were empty he appropriated the money, watches, and keys. The other articles he contemptuously rejected, and allowed the boys to take them back.

Then he drove his prisoners into the closet and bolted the doormuch to their surprise and consternation, for they had confidently expected to be turned loose.

“No racket now,” he growled. “I ain’t going so far away but what I kin hear you. It won’t do to yell or kick, for the door is too strong to break, and there ain’t another living creature within a mile.”

He tramped heavily across the floor and left the mill.

The loss of their valuables had made the boys so angry and indignant that they were little inclined to regard the warning. They soon came to the conclusion, however, that escape was really impossible.

The door was stoutly built, and rendered still stronger by heavy cross bars. The hinges and the bolts were massive. The combined efforts of all four failed to make any impression, and they soon abandoned the attempt.

“Great Cæsar! I see it all now,” exclaimed Ned suddenly. “That scoundrel is going to carry off our canoes, and leave us to get out the best way we can!”

No one doubted that Ned was right. The boys stared at each other in speechless consternation.

It was bad enough to lose their watches and money, but now they were about to be deprived of everythingclothes, canoes, and tent. It meant the sudden termination of the cruise, and an ignominious return home.

“Let’s pound and kick with all our might,” suggested Clay. “The door can’t hold out forever.”

Before any one could reply a heavy tread was heard, and looking through the crevice Ned made the startling announcement that the ruffian had returned.

The boys hardly knew whether to be glad or sorry at this piece of news. They feared a greater misfortune than the loss of all their property.

Crowding close to the crevicewhich extended upward the length of the doorthey peered eagerly into the room. Moxley had not returned empty handed. He had employed his brief absence in rifling the canoes, and was laden with their entire contents, excepting the dishes and the fishing rods.

He deposited his burden on the sawdust and sat down beside it. Very slowly and attentively he ransacked the bags of clothes, the packets of provisions, and the little japanned tin boxes in which the boys kept paper and envelopes, stamps, fishing tackle, and various other articles.

Then he took the empty grain sack and stuffed it with the clothes, and a large portion of the provisions. He appropriated all the stamps he could find, and pushed the tin boxes aside.

Having completed his arrangements he walked over to the closet and opened the door. Then he sat down on a log facing the boys with his gun across his knee.

“I think I have you chaps pretty tight,” he said, wrinkling his face into an ugly smile. “I have a very particular engagement about twenty miles from here, and it was my first intention to start away this morning. But seein’ as the rain is still coming down I have changed my mind and will give you the pleasure of my company fur a few hours longer.

“The fact is I’ve taken quite a fancy to you chapsquite a decided fancy. There’s one young gentleman in your party I’m ’specially anxious to see. I’ve had a cherished memento of him fur the last ten days, and it’s quite a load on my mind because I haven’t given him anything in return. It keeps me from sleepin’ sound at nights.”

Here Mr. Moxley threw out his right leg, and turned the trousers up a few inches, revealing half a dozen red scars on his ankle.

“That’s the memento I speak of,” he said. “It’s a purty one, isn’t it?”

There was a breathless pause. The boys turned pale before the ferocious glance of the scoundrel. The mystery was clear as daylight now.

Their captor was none other than Bug Batters’s desperate companion. From sheer love of revenge he must have been tracking the Jolly Rovers ever since that momentous night nearly two weeks previous.

Moxley gloated over the consternation and the dread that were depicted on the faces of his prisoners. He did not speak for a moment, but gazed at the boys with a cruel smile that was more terrible than a manifestation of anger.

“Well,” he said finally, “I reckon you know who I am by this time. I’ll give you just five minutes to point out the lad who peppered me with salt. If you’re sensible chaps you’ll do it without hesitation. If you try to make a fool out of me I’ll serve you all the same way I intend to serve him. I’m a fair minded man, and don’t want to punish the innocent with the guilty if I kin help it.”

The boys looked at one another without speaking. If Randy was a shade paler than the others it escaped the notice of Mr. Moxley, although he was scanning all the faces intently, with a view to picking out the guilty one by his own powers of perception.

“The allotted time is slipping away,” he said grimly. “The right party had better speak up quick. Oh! you needn’t look out of the windows. No one comes near this place in the summer, and there ain’t a house within three quarters of a mile. I’ve got you right in my power, and there ain’t no hope of escape.”

“I hardly think you will get the information you want,” said Ned in a firm but husky voice. “I for one shan’t tell you, and I advise my friends to do the same. It’s not likely we would put one of our companions in your power after the threats you have made. If you wish to avoid trouble in the future you will be satisfied with robbing us, and will let us go without any worse treatment. As for the shootingno one was to blame but yourself. You had no business to attack our camp that night.”