“Well, boys, I have an idea at last,” Charles said slowly, after a long pause. “Let us persuade some one to go there, thinking a great villain has a prisoner there.”
“Pshaw! Who would believe that!” said George, contemptuously.
“Wait till we get everything arranged,” Charles rejoined grimly. “This is a good idea, George, and I can prove it to you. And now that I have thought of it, I am going to work it out. We might even compose a letter, begging for help, and seeming to come from some lonely prisoner in that house, guarded by jailers and villains, and afraid of being put to death.”
“I don’t know who would be foolish enough to be caught by such a letter,” George replied laughingly.
“Well, let us try it, anyway; and if we succeed it will be capital sport,” said Stephen, interested already in the scheme. “But who will be the victim, the fellow to be imposed on?” he asked suddenly. “Surely none of us, after what we have said, will be foolish enough to be trapped.”
“Hardly,” said Charles, with a smile. “But Marmaduke isn’t with us; let us make him the dupe.”
“Why single out Marmaduke?” asked Will.
“Well, the victim must be one of ourselves, and Marmaduke knows nothing about our plot, of course. And besides, he is so full of mysteries and romance that if he should get such a letter, he would believe every word in it, and be mad to plan a rescue. His notions about such things are so queer that it will do him good to be wakened up.”
“If Marmaduke is the one to be awakened,” George said, “I think your plan may succeed very well; because, poor fellow, he is always expecting to light on some prodigious mystery. I must give in, Charley, that it would be fun to drop such a letter some place where Marmaduke would be sure to find it, and then we could hide ourselves and see the result. How he would rave at the thought of rescuing a captive!”