Now he sat up and carefully removed the fragments which hung around the ragged hole. He had broken a place between two beams, an opening large enough to admit his body, and when he had torn the splinters away he stood up and thrust his head and shoulders through the opening. Although he could see very little he realized that he was half way in an attic, and it took him but a brief instant to raise his body and haul himself to the level of the floor. He stood up and knew that he was free, for the moment at least.
His next task was to find the stairs. This took him several minutes, for the attic was dark by this time, and he had to proceed with caution. But at length he located them and began a careful descent. A door stood at the foot of the steps. He opened it and after a hasty look around, stepped out into the upper hall.
There was no sound in the house and Don made his way to the head of the stairs up which he had run a few hours ago. He looked over the railing and peered into the darkness below, but there was no light to be seen anywhere. Perhaps Dennings had gone away, and if such was the case he was free to get out of the house and make for the lake. He had no future plan in mind, but his sole idea was to get out of the farmhouse.
He made his way down the stairs with increasing boldness and arrived safely at the lower landing. The windows in the downstairs floor were unbroken and not all boarded up, and if he found that he could not raise one he was planning to break his way out and to freedom. He tiptoed into the living room and was making his way toward the nearest window when hasty steps sounded on the front porch. Someone stamped the snow from his feet and a key rattled in the lock. Waiting until the door was swung inward Don smashed the glass with a single kick and jumped the sill, landing on the porch with a bound. A startled cry sounded near him and he turned to run.
But the new-fallen snow proved his undoing. It was slippery and he fell. Scrambling desperately, he managed to get to his knees, but it was too late. Someone loomed up in the darkness and grasped him by the collar.
“Got him, chief,” cried a strange voice, and the grip on his collar tightened. With the quickness of thought Don brought his fists up against the chin of the man who had hold of him. The blow was a hard one and the man grunted in anger, but did not loosen his grip. The man who had entered the house ran up at that minute and Dennings grasped him by the arm.
“Thought you’d get away, did you, sonny?” asked the man, pushing his face close to Don’s. “Well, we were too fast for you that time.”
“You had better let me go,” cried Don, struggling furiously. “This will mean a lot of trouble for you if you don’t.”
“It would mean a lot more trouble if we did,” returned Dennings. “March him in the house, Dan.”
Between them they pushed Don into the hall and out into the kitchen, where the leader lighted a candle. Don discovered that the man who had captured him was a powerfully built man, with a rough, hard face and narrow eyes. He kept his grasp on the cadet’s arm until Dennings ordered him to let go.