en if
it ain't so.' Is that it, Lopez?"

"Yes," snapped Lopez. "Now git to work at them oars and send this boat
along or it'll be the worse for you."

Thus urged, the boys bent to the oars with renewed vigor. Their efforts
sent the boat along at a rapid pace. Finally as they were becoming
exhausted, Lopez commanded them to head directly in shore. They did so,
but instead of running ashore, shot up the entrance to a narrow bayou.
Inside, Lopez commanded them to lie flat in the bottom of the boat. They
heard directly the sound of approaching oars.

"What's that coming, Lopez?" questioned Harry.

His answer was a thrust of Lopez's foot in his ribs and again he felt
the muzzle of the rifle creep along his spine.

With the talk and laughter of their chums ringing in their ears, Harry
and Arnold were compelled to lie silently in the scow, while the other
party passed them a second time that night without being aware of their
presence.

"Looks like we better get up and go to work," announced their captor
after the sound of the oars and talk from the other boatload had died
away. "We've got a long ways to go yet," he added.

"Let's take it a little easier, if you please," requested Arnold. "My
arms are nearly pulled out of their sockets."

"All right, my hearties, take your time now. I just wanted to get into
clear while the others went past us," replied Lopez.

In a short time the boys were amongst the shipping on the river. Here
they were directed to row alongside a deserted wharf. Lopez guarded them
while they made the boat fast and then prepared to take them up into a
rough looking quarter of the town. Just as they were preparing to leave
the wharf a boat was heard approaching from down stream. Lopez stopped,
then gave a peculiar whistle.

What was the boys' surprise to see Doright row up alongside the wharf,
make fast his boat and come ashore.

"Doright," Lopez commanded. "Youall come with me while I fix these young
rascals and then I want you to come back here and take that shipyard
man's scow back to him and take that skiff back to the shipyard, too.
Somebody might want them boats again."

"Yaas, sir, Boss," was Doright's unvarying reply.

The boys were marched a short distance up the deserted street to a
disreputable looking shanty. Here they were forced inside and compelled
to enter an inner room.

"Doright, get a piece of rope and tie these young fellers."

"Haint got no rope, Boss," announced Dorig