“Silence!” commanded Skeel. “I’m attending to this.” His face and his tone showed his anger, but he managed to keep it under control. He picked up the letter—something of a condescension on his part, and said to Tom:
“Then you refuse to do as I ask?”
“I most certainly do! The idea is positively—silly!” and Tom had the nerve to laugh in the faces of his enemies.
“We’ll make you sweat for this!” declared Whalen. “We’ll——”
“Better let the boss work the game,” suggested Murker. In spite of his evil face, and the fact that he was just as guilty in the matter as the others, he seemed of a more conciliatory spirit.
“Yes, you keep out of this,” commanded the professor to the former employee of the school. “I know what I’m doing.”
Tom wondered what the next move would be. He did not have to wait long to find out.
“Well, if you won’t sign this now, you will later,” said Skeel, as he folded the letter and put it into his pocket. “Take him to the dark room,” he ordered. “Maybe he’ll come to his senses there. And don’t give him too much bread and water,” and the man laughed as he gave this order. “A little starving will bring some results, perhaps. Lock him up, and bring me the key.”
“All right, you’re the boss,” assented Murker. “I’m in this thing now, and I’m going to stick it out, but I wish——”