“I don’t,” answered Don, and Jim shook his head. Don pointed to the note. “I see he signed it ‘Duress Scott.’ I never heard of that name before.”
“It isn’t a name,” was the startling answer. “Dad signed it that way to let us know that he signed it under duress, under compulsion! The cook and the overseer are both gone, evidently carried off by the same gang who captured dad!”
“I’ll bet everything I’ve got that it is Sackett again!” groaned Jim. “What are we to do?”
“Just as soon as we can tie up a little grub and fill up with plenty of ammunition we’ll start to run those fellows down,” said Ned, grimly. “I think it is high time that somebody put an end to Mr. Sackett and Company, and we’re going to do it!”
“That’s the talk!” cried Terry. “War to the knife! Where is my gun?”
CHAPTER IX
THE RUINED CASTLE
The professor enjoyed his day of solitude. Long years of serious study and instructive reading had made him one of the men who prefer being alone to mixing with a noisy crowd. Not that the professor was the least bit snobbish or unsociable, but he loved the quietness of inner thought and the companionship of a book.
After the boys had disappeared over the hill he returned to the living room and sat in a sunny window looking out over the rolling country which extended for miles back of Ned’s ranch, away to the purple mountains in the distance. A feeling of warm contentment came over the elderly man, for an hour or more he simply dreamed there, enjoying the comfort of Ned’s best armchair.
After that he read for a long time, until the cook announced that dinner was ready. He ate alone, well served by the silent Indian and then went back to smoke his pipe and dream in the window once more. When afternoon came on he imitated the actions of the cook and Yappi, who both went to sleep, the cook in a bunk off the kitchen and Yappi beside the barn, his battered hat over his eyes. The professor sought the dull colored sofa in the living room and slept until the sun began to go down.
He awoke much refreshed and drank copiously, realizing for the first time in his long life just how good water could be. Another lone meal followed and he spent the evening with another book, sitting under the oil lamp until it was nearly time to go to bed. Then, enchanted with the fine moonlight, the professor went out on the front porch to smoke a final pipe before retiring.