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"I sent the rest on to the Universe office." "Then come to my rooms you know you left a lot of clothes and other stuff there. You can fix up a bit, and then we'll go out and have a good feed." "As you like," Jack assented, indifferently. "But I must see Hunston first he will go from the docks to the office, and expect to find me there."
"You are over prudent, Hunston. Why should we not destroy them while they are in our power?" "What if one escapes?" "One should not," retorted the Italian savagely; "no, nor half a one." "And where is the good if we succeeded, as you say?" "Good!" reiterated Toro, passionately. "Are they not our sworn foes? Are they not here in pursuit of us?
They felt sure that Hunston had received more money for the ransom of the boys than he had acknowledged, and so they voted his doom. Under ordinary circumstances he would have been shot. As it was, they had learnt so terribly to respect Harkaway that they gave up his enemy in preference to taking the law in their own hands.
Whatever wild fancies the two boy prisoners might have had in their minds, this startling phenomenon effectually drove them away. And fortunate it was, too, for them. Hunston called a halt. The men were nothing loth. The road they had traversed was steep and rugged, and it had perhaps told less upon the two boy prisoners than upon any of the party. The brigands sat and refreshed.
It was, in fact, this which led up to that scene of terror the firing of the hotel by Hunston and Toro. Sunday had suffered at Toro's hands, but had never had his whack back. But now the darkey showed the half insensible Italian the full signification of "John up de orchard," and likewise of "what for," and "what Paddy gave the drum."
In fact, he made sure as you had overheard us grumbling together about the skipper, and that you was a-trying it on only to tell Mr. Harkaway all about it." "Did he say so?" "Yes." "Then undeceive him immediately." "I have done so." "As for this," added Hunston, pointing to his discoloured eye and cheek, "I think nothing of it. All I'll ask of him is that he shall do as much for Harkaway."
"Ha, ha, ha!" laughed Hunston, in a boisterous and forced manner; "quite a sermon. Preaching is a new quality in the Harkaways. It is unfortunate that you are to be cut off in your early youth. You would soon bloom into an odd mixture of Puritan and bully." But he could not provoke his victim.
Beside the portrait ran a "story," which said in part: "It leaked out yesterday that the 'mysterious stranger' who suddenly appeared off Hunston in an elegant private yacht on Monday night, is none other than Ferris Stanhope, well-known author of novels of the pink-tea type.... "Mr. Stanhope is a native of Hunston, and is well remembered here.
At any rate, maybe the natives would try to thrash him and Peter. In hopeful moments he conjured up visions of the deuce to pay. But, after all, he was going to Hunston, whether he liked it or not, simply because Uncle Elbert had asked him. The lonely old gentleman, he knew, loved him like a son: he had turned straight to him in his hour of need.
They tell to this day of a great giant, eight feet tall, watchful eyes in all parts of him, impervious to all blows, hundred-handed and every hand like the kick of a mule, who met ten men almost single-handed that night and routed them utterly. He was the biggest man in Hunston, the strongest and the most terrible in anger.
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