“He won’t get away again, Dan,” Dennings promised, as he looked Don over. “How did you manage to get out of that room?”
“I just walked out,” Don replied, briefly.
“I see,” nodded Dennings. “Won’t talk, eh? Well, it is perfectly all right, son. We were just coming to get you anyway, so you saved us the trouble of going upstairs. I’ll find out how you got out some other time.” He turned to Dan. “I guess it’s safe to get him over now, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” growled the man, rubbing his chin where Don had hit him.
“Then let’s go,” said Dennings. “Just keep a tight hold on him, and if he tries to get away, you know what to do.”
“You bet I do!” the man replied. “I hope he does try something. I’ll pay him back for that crack on the chin with interest.”
Dennings lighted a lantern and led the way out of the house, Dan and the unwilling Don following. It was snowing lightly at the time and Don found that the ground was covered to a depth of two inches. The evening was clear and cold, and a keen wind was blowing. Dennings ranged himself beside Don and the three made their way through the woods side by side in silence, going away from the house and parallel with the lake.
“The snow will cover up any footprints,” observed Dan, as they went along, and Dennings nodded.
“See here, where are you taking me?” demanded Don, as they plunged deeper into the woods.
“You’ll know soon enough,” Dennings growled, swinging the lantern before him. “Keep quiet and come along, or it will be the worse for you.”