Tom was glad to arise.
"What are you going to do with me?" he questioned.
"You'll see fast enough."
"Going to try your old tricks of making me a prisoner, I suppose."
"You're a prisoner already."
"Thank you, for nothing," returned Tom, as coolly as he could.
"Don't you get impudent, Tom Rover. If you try it on, you'll get more than you bargain for, let me tell you that."
"You always were a first-class bully, Baxter. You like to tackle little boys, or else somebody who is helpless."
"Shut up! I won't listen to you, now!" roared Baxter, and grabbing Tom's hands he forced them back and bound them together. Then the rope was passed around Tom's waist, so that he could not move his hands to the front.
By the time this work was accomplished Sara was regaining consciousness. He gave a moan of pain, and then sat up in bewilderment.
"Who—what's happened?" he stammered. Then he looked around. "Oh! I remember now!"
He was very unsteady when he got on his feet, and it was Tom who made the first move toward him.
