“So do I, blast his hide. When did he steal it?”

“Day before yesterday. We were coming north; he passed over us in a big plane, dropped on the wings and drove us off the course. We landed up in the snow, had a fall, and he robbed us—”

“Yeh. Say, tell that to the marines. Gordon wasn’t risking his neck by dropping on you out of another plane,” the tall man objected.

“Then let you get away. You got to make up a better story than that, bo, see!”

“I do not need to. Gordon hurt himself and is laid up with a broken leg—”

“If he snitched the tube, then you got it back—”

“We didn’t get a chance,” Bob declared.

“Say, we’ll fix ’em so they tell better stories. Tie ’em up boy with them lariats and do a good job. They got out of some tight holes, but the fellow that lets ’em get away this time gets plugged, see.”

CHAPTER III. The Horrible Cavern

The Horrible Cavern

There was no use resisting the gang for the six promptly jumped to the task of securing the Flying Buddies with their own lariats, and every man of them saw to it that there was no possible chance of them getting out of the bonds.

“Now, let’s take these nice rings—”

“Let those rings alone.” It was the tall man and he spoke so sharply that the would-be thief paused.

“Say, how do you get that way?”

“I’m telling you, let them alone, don’t touch ’em.”

“Aw, what’s eatin’ you—”

“Listen, if any man jack of you touches those rings, I’m through, see, I quit right now—”

“Yeh, well, we aint grievin’ none.”

“What you got on your mind? What’s the matter with the rings?”

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