“That’s what!”
Never did food taste so good as that which Sam brought up from his pung. He explained that he had walked on ahead while his horses were eating their dinners from nose-bags.
“And it’s lucky for you fellows I did,” he said, “though of course you might have stumbled on the camp yourselves. But now for a search.”
And with anxious hearts the boys took it up. Where could Tom Fairfield be? That was a question each one asked himself.
[CHAPTER XXIII]
DEFIANCE
Tom, a bound prisoner, watched the insolent professor who sat facing him. The latter had on his face a sneer of triumph, but mingled with it, as Tom could note, was a look that had in it not a little fear. For the desperate man had planned a desperate game, and he was not altogether sure how it would work out.
Tom steeled himself to meet what was coming. He did not know what it was, but that it was something that would concern himself, vitally, he was sure. And he was better prepared to meet what was coming than he had been an hour or so previous.
For now, though he was a prisoner, and bound, he was warm, and he had eaten. These things go far toward making courage in a man, or boy either, for that matter.