"No, they'd have found me out, anyway," Al answered, smiling bravely at his friend. "I'd a good deal rather stay with you, old man, than to have you face this alone." The boys were held on the bank while the guerillas went through the barge, taking what they pleased in the way of food and the clothing of the men. They seized no more prisoners and finally came ashore, when Yeager, brandishing a pistol, shouted to Captain Lamont, "Now, then, cast off an' git out an' don't stop ner monkey around fer two hours, anyhow, er I'll sink yer rotten old tub an' you with it!" There was nothing to do but obey, and with many glances of profound regret and apprehension at Al and Wallace, standing guarded by a dozen brawny ruffians on the bank, Captain Lamont and his men shoved the barge off and drifted on down the river. As the boys watched the boat recede in the distance, it seemed to them that they had looked their last upon friendly faces, and that the portals of death were closing upon them as the barge finally disappeared. When the boat was gone, Yeager turned his attention to his prisoners. Seating himself under a tree, he regarded them genially and remarked, "P'utty sporty clothes you got on. I reckon some o' my boys needs them worse 'n you do." "Yes, I reckon," said one of the guerillas, slouching up and leering into Al's face. It was the fellow whom Al had knocked down and he could leer with only one eye for the other was closed and the flesh around it had already turned blue-black in color. He glanced down at Al's shoes, which had been purchased in Kansas City. "Those look about my size," said he, comparing them with his own broken-down cowhide boots. "I'll take them before I shoot you." He knelt down and began to unlace one of the shoes. Al's anger and contempt were so great that he had lost all sense of discretion. But he showed his feelings in unusual ways. "Certainly; help yourself," said he, in a smooth tone of mocking politeness, thrusting his foot a little way forward. "I always like to have a nigger take care of my shoes for me." The crowd laughed uproariously and the ruffian sprang to his feet and slapped Al across the mouth. "Take 'em off yerself an' hand 'em to me!" he shouted. Al looked around at the other men. "If you will untie my hands and leave me free to use them," said he, "I will hand you my shoes,--and something more." He glanced significantly at the guerilla's still uninjured eye.