“We’re giving a party for you, Van,” he explained. “Very select. Some of the best blood in camp is waiting to greet you.”
“Why—that’s very kind of them.” Dirk was flattered. “Where are we going?”
The other hesitated. “Well, you see, our meeting-place is supposed to be kept a secret. Would you mind wearing this for a minute?”
Before Dirk knew what his guide was about, he felt a large handkerchief drop over his eyes. He muttered a protest, but already the blindfold was knotted about his head, and even the dim glow of the night was shut from his sight.
“Just hang on to my arm,” said the stranger reassuringly. “We’re not far off now. This way.”
He gave Dirk a slight push ahead. Slowly, with arms outstretched, Dirk felt his way forward along the rough path. He did not quite know what to make of this midnight game of blind-man’s-buff; but he had no reason to think that the other boy meant him harm. He remembered that at Wild Rose Camp last summer, it was often the thing to have quiet little “spreads” after bedtime, without the knowledge of the councilors. Seemingly, Lenape also enjoyed this adventurous custom; and he took it as a tribute to himself that he, a newcomer, should have been selected to be honored on his first night on the campus.
While he was pondering this he was stumbling ahead over the rough ground, now and then tripping over a rock or tree-root and leaning heavily on the arm of the boy at his side. Suddenly, that arm was withdrawn; he felt a rude thrust into his back; he stepped forward to catch himself, found his ankles snared in a rope that had been stretched across his path. He tripped and crashed to the earth, throwing his arms out with a grunt of pain. He had landed with a smashing thud into a thicket of scratching branches.
The shock of the impact had driven his breath out of him; he could not cry out. He thrashed about upon the rocky ground, trying to tear the blinding bandage from his eyes. But a sharp knee was now pressing into the small of his back, and even as he struggled, someone unseen lashed his hands together with a skillful handcuff knot.
“Take it easy, Baby!” urged a mocking voice above him, and the knee dug deeper into his aching back. “How do you like our little party?”
He knew this voice! Brick Ryan!