snapped a strange voice.

As the four young people turned with a start, they saw two men burst
from the shrubbery just behind them.

Both were holding guns!

CHAPTER XVI

THE GUNMAN'S SURPRISE

Sandy and Phyl were terrified by the sudden appearance of the
rough-looking pair with their drawn revolvers. Tom and Bud remained
cool, eying the men warily.

"What's the big idea?" Tom asked.

"Shut up and hoist your mitts!" the bigger of the men snarled. As the
boys obeyed, he muttered to his partner, "Keep these two punks covered,
Mugs, while I take their cash!"

"Right, Packy! I'll watch 'em!"

Sandy and Phyl emptied their pockets. Then Packy took the boys' wallets
and change.

"Now turn around and march!" Packy snapped.

Bud took the lead, followed by the two girls, with Tom bringing up the
rear. They plodded up the brushy slope in silence for several minutes.
Presently a weather-beaten cabin in a grove of trees came into view.

"You intend to hold us there?" Tom asked.

"You'll find out soon enough!" Packy answered. "We'll teach you to
interfere with the Mirovs!"

_The Mirovs!_ Like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle, the whole picture suddenly
fell into place. It was clear to Tom now how the capture had been
arranged.

The call to the jail from Dimitri Mirov had been a hoax. Its purpose had
really been to get Tom away from Enterprises--thus giving the two thugs
a starting point from which to follow him. The mountain hike, organized
by Bud and the girls, had played right into their hands! As Tom sized up
the situation, seeking a way out, the group reached the cabin.

"What are your terms for letting us go?" Tom asked their captors,
stalling for time.

The man named Packy gave an ugly chuckle. "None yet," he said. "We may
just decide to set the cabin on fire."

Sandy uttered a gasp as his words sank home. Phyl Newton had turned
deathly pale. Packy now told his partner to unlock the cabin. Mugs
stepped to the door.

At that moment Tom caught Bud's eye. _It was now or never!_

Tom whirled and smashed a stiff handblow to Packy's wrist, knocking the
gun from his hand. Bud hurled himself on Mugs.

Taken off guard, the shorter thug staggered and went down under a hail
of punches. Bud grabbed his wrist and twisted it mercilessly while he
pinned him to the ground.

Mugs screeched with pain. "C-c-cut it out!"

"Then drop your gun!" Bud snapped.

Tom, meanwhile, had followed up his first advantage with