“Yes, and then stand by. I’m going to make him write this letter. That will bring the cash.”
“That’s what we want!” exclaimed Whalen, with an unctious smile. “It’s the cash I’m after.”
“You’ll get none from my father!” cried Tom, beginning to understand the course of the plot.
“We’ll see about that,” muttered the professor. “Loose his bonds, but look out! He’s a tricky customer.”
“Not any more so than you are,” Tom said, promptly. “And I want to tell you here and now, when you have your witnesses present—mean and low as they are—I want to tell you that you’ll suffer for this when I get out. I’ll make it my business, and my father will also, to prosecute you to the full extent of the law!”
“Words—mere words!” sneered Skeel.
“You won’t get out until you do as the boss wants,” said Whalen.
“Don’t be so rough. Better give in, it will be easier,” spoke Murker, who seemed a little alarmed by what Tom said.
“I’ll attend to him,” said Skeel curtly. “Take off the ropes. Then you read this letter and copy and sign it!” he ordered.
A moment later Tom’s hands were free. He did not see any chance for making an escape then, so he waited, merely stretching his arms so that the bound muscles were more free. True, he might have made a rush on his captors, but the door had been locked, after the entrance of Murker and Whalen, and Tom did not see what opportunity he would have with three against him. He might be seriously hurt and that would spoil his chances for a future escape.