"I--oh,
great Scott! How dare you?"
For, dropping his cigar from between his teeth, this second Italian,
while still holding the boy's hand, gave his wrist a wrenching twist
that forced Captain Jack over to the ground.
In a twinkling the guide fell upon him, too.
"What on earth does this mean!" demand Benson, freeing his right hand
and doing all in his power to fight.
The spot was fearfully lonely. Captain Jack remembered, in a jiffy,
all the gruesome tales he had heard about the dread doings of the
Black Hand. Brave though he was, the young submarine expert felt
suddenly cold and creepy, though he did not once think of giving up the
fight.
"Now, be still you!" ordered the late guide, plaintively. "We not want
to hurt you. But, if you make us--"
"Be still, behave, and you be all right," promised the other Italian, in
a gruff appeal for reasonableness.
Though he tried to fight like a savage, Jack Benson soon found himself
being yanked to his feet, while a stalwart laborer held him by either
arm.
"You see, you can do nothing," advised the Italian who had thrown the
boy. "You not want to get hurt? We no want hurt you, but if you be
one big fool, then--!"
"What's the meaning of this rough game?" Jack demanded, hoarsely.
"You be verra good, no make noise, come with us and wait little while,
then you go loose bimeby. Make fight, and well--then we no can help!"
That statement, coupled with the sinister, menacing tone, was
sufficiently clear.
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