"That you, Kyle Sparwick?" he exclaimed, in a tone of genuine surprise.

"This is a nice way to greet an old friend. What's got over you? Don't you know me any more?"

"Yes, I know you, Raikes, Bostick, Madden, Gerber, and whatever other names you have," growled Sparwick. "Sorry I can't be more polite, but this here is a business matter. Drop that weapon, I say. You ain't travlin' any farther jest now."

At that instant Jerry and Hamp rose up from behind the log, concluding that their services might be needed. Raikes saw them, and his mind grasped the situation.

A brief look of rage and disappointment distorted his features. Then, like a flash, he lifted his rifle, and tried to shoot Sparwick.

But the latter was too quick. With his own rifle, he knocked the other's weapon upward, and it was discharged harmlessly in the air.

With a savage oath, Raikes sprang at his antagonist. They exchanged a round of heavy blows. Sparwick's weapon was dashed from his hand. Raikes had nothing left but the shattered stock. Both grappled, and rolled over in the snow.

Jerry and Hamp looked on with suppressed excitement and anxiety. They saw no opportunity of interfering; nor was their aid needed. Sparwick was far more powerful than his opponent. Raikes made a desperate fight, and quickly exhausted his wind and strength. Sparwick tumbled him over on his back, and sat upon him.

"Lie still, or I'll smash you," he cried.

Raikes glared sullenly up at his enemy, panting for breath. He had no intention of renewing the contest. He was played out.

"Well, I reckon you know what we want with you," resumed Sparwick.

"Where's the lad you and Joe Bogle carried off?"

"Don't ask me," muttered Raikes. "You're the one to answer that question. You robbed the lad, and we tried to overhaul you. When you gave us the slip the youngster started back to join his friends. If he never reached them you likely know something about it."

"That's a lie," exclaimed Sparwick. "You're too dumb to live. Listen here. I was hidin' in the bushes when you attacked the lad. I seen the whole thing. What did you do with him? Better own up to it."

"If you've murdered Brick you'll hang," cried Jerry, wrathfully.

Raikes looked crestfallen for an instant. Then a last expedient suggested itself to his fertile mind. He glanced at Jerry.

"Don't you boys be deceived by this ruffian. He is telling a clever lie.

If your friend has disappeared, he is to blame. I don't doubt that he robbed and murdered that lad, and concealed the----"

"It's false!" interrupted Sparwick. "I've a mind to break your neck!"

He seized his prisoner by the throat, and shook him savagely. Raikes fought for breath, and in the struggle his coat was torn open, and thrown back from his breast. Something white peeped from the inner pocket. Sparwick made a grab, and hauled out two envelopes.

"Letters!" he exclaimed. "One to John Larkins, an' the other to Frederick Glendale. What's up now?"

Raikes uttered a hoa.r.s.e cry, and s.n.a.t.c.hed vainly at the letters. Then his head fell back, and a hopeless expression came over his face. He mumbled something inaudible. Meanwhile Sparwick had pa.s.sed both envelopes to Jerry.

"See what's inside, lad," he said. "I kin make out to read writin', but no doubt you're better. Anyway, this scamp would s.n.a.t.c.h 'em out of my hand."

Hamp looked eagerly over Jerry's shoulder. The first envelope bore the following address:

MR. FREDERICK GLENDALE, Attorney at Law, Lears Building, Broadway, New York.

Jerry opened it, and took out a sheet of paper covered with neat and legible writing. He glanced briefly at it, and his eyes opened wide.

"Listen to this," he cried, excitedly. Then he read aloud: *

dear mr. glendale:--I am a prisoner in a lonely and inaccessible part of the Maine woods. My captors know who I am, and unless you pay them ten thousand dollars I will be murdered. The man who gives you this letter will tell you when and where the sum necessary for my release must be paid over. I send a letter for my father. Cable it to him at once if you need his authority to pay the money. There is no other way to get me out of the fix, so don't be so foolish as to appeal to the police. If the messenger is harmed, or fails to return here in ten days. I will be murdered. Don't delay, for my life is at stake. Only ten thousand dollars will save me. I am writing of my own free will.

Yours sincerely, jim larkins.

Jerry opened the other letter, and glanced through it.

"This is pretty much the same thing," he said. "Brick begs his father to cable to Mr. Glendale to pay the money at once, and without dispute. Did you ever hear of such an outrageous scheme of robbery? The whole affair is as plain as daylight now. Brick is a prisoner some place in the woods, and Bogle is watching him."

"That's just it," cried Hamp. "The thing was planned weeks ago. It sounds like a story out of a book. The idea of bandits carrying off a person for ransom money in the State of Maine."

"Gimme the letters," exclaimed Sparwick. He took them from Jerry, and held them up high in both hands. Slowly and monotonously he spelled out their contents.

"Je-ru-sa-lem!" he e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed. "Ten thousand dollars! Think of it. Yes, it's plain now. What a streak of luck to nab this fellow. We'll find the missing lad before long. An' if I pull him through all right, don't you boys forget your part of the bargain."

"We won't," a.s.sured Jerry.

"We'll stick to the compact," added Hamp.

Sparwick looked relieved.

Then he seized his prisoner, and lifted him rather roughly.

"Stand up, Raikes," he said. "An' no foolin', remember. We've got you in a tight place, an' we're goin' ter keep you there. I reckon you'll hev to postpone that little trip to New York."

CHAPTER XXVII.

THROUGH THE WOODS.

Raikes fixed his disheveled clothes, and pulled his cap down over his forehead. Then he thrust his hands into his pockets, and stared meaningly at Sparwick.

"What are you lookin' at me fur?" demanded Sparwick.

"I was just thinking what a big, lubberly fool you are," replied Raikes, boldly. "Hold on--don't get riled. I want to talk to you for a minute or two."

"Fire away," said Sparwick.

Raikes shook his head.

"No, not here. It must be a private conversation."

Sparwick hesitated, and a greedy look came into his eyes.

"No tricks," he replied, warningly, "or I'll smash your head."