With a howl of mingled rage and pain, Seth held back, leaving the field to his father and brother. Old Israel, although of great age, demonstrated his ability in a rough and tumble, leaping at Nat and pinioning his arms before the boy had a chance to defend himself. Joe having disposed of Seth for the time being, dashed to the rescue, but he was, in turn, tackled by old Israel’s other son and borne to the ground almost as soon as he interfered.
The unequal contest came to a speedy conclusion, with the Harleys victorious. Nat and Joe found themselves bound and secured, hand and foot, within a few seconds from the time that they had engaged the smuggler’s crowd.
“Thought we wasn’t on the lookout, did yer?” scoffed old Israel, as he made some lashings of rope fast about the boys’ wrists and ankles. “Wa’al, you got another guess comin’ now, ain’t ye? What’ll we do with ’em, boys?”
It was useless to make any outcry, and both lads knew it, so in silence they awaited the verdict that was to decide their fate. It was Seth Harley who delivered it:
“That pesky kid, thar’, got away from us once and I ain’t calculatin’ to hev him do it agin,” he said. “Let’s put ’em in the old Booty Hole. It’ll be a long time afore they git out of thar’, I’m thinkin’.”
Naturally enough, neither of the boys had the least idea of what the “Booty Hole” was, but Nat opined that it was some sort of a cellar or excavation amidst the ruins, and in this he was not mistaken. The two lads were roughly seized and pushed forward among the ruins without any regard to their feelings. As they were half-dragged, half-shoved over the rough ground and piled-up debris, old Israel kept up a running fire of satirical comment on their plight.
“Wa’al, this is sure a fine fix fer two bright byes to be in, ain’t it?” he grinned. “Two nice young fellers that thought they knew it all, hum? This is the one time that you don’t git away, kid,” he added, addressing Nat with a vicious intonation. “We’re a-goin’ ter put yer where you won’t git out till Kingdom Come, and maybe not then.”
The boys did not reply. To have given utterance to their feelings in words would have been as useless as to have made active resistance. Seth, who was slightly in advance, while old Harley and his other son held the boys, paused suddenly.