Once before Dick had been in a tight hole, and the lack of knife and matches had almost been his undoing. Thereafter he had guarded against this happening again. To this end he had contrived a secret pocket in the lapel of his coat, where a knife always reposed. Also inside of the sweatband of his hat were several matches rolled tightly in waterproof silk.
He got out the matches, and lighting one, looked about him. He surveyed the room with a quick glance, for the matches were too precious to use too many of them. His quick survey showed that the underground room was bare of any furnishing; there was not even a blanket to sleep on. He lighted a second match and inspected the floor, discovering that both floor and walls were constructed of hand-hewed logs, and knew that it would take a week to dig through them with nothing but a pocket knife with which to work.
The underground room was damp and musty, and Dick shivered.
He wondered how long it would be before they took him out, and he began to do calisthenics vigorously to restore some warmth to his already chilled body.
For a time he thought of crawling up the ladder and trying out his knife on the trap door, but he had noted that it was of triple thickness of inch boards and would probably blunt and dull his knife without making any great impression.
There was one hope that someone might come into the storehouse above and he could rap on the door and let them know he was a prisoner there.
After some moments of reflection, he decided that this would also be unavailing, for the cook must also be one of the traitors. It was not possible that he would be unaware of the secret room, and was in all probability a member of the gang.
Dick was a healthy boy, and soon his eyes grew drowsy with sleep. He laid himself down on the hard floor, and as soon as his bones got accustomed to the floor, dropped off to sleep, sensibly refusing to worry and letting the morrow bring what it would.
His last thought as he fell asleep was the hope that his companions would not fall into a trap as he had, although he half expected that he would be awakened any moment by the sound of the trap door opening, and the entry of his chums as prisoners.
But when he awoke in the morning, he found that he was still alone. He unscrewed the cover of his watch face, and felt the hands, finding that it was nearly eight o’clock. So far no one had come, and he wondered if he was to be given anything to eat. Two weary hours dragged on, and then the trap was opened, and a pack of food lowered to him, together with a pail of coffee. He looked up and saw the cook and cookee peering down at him. Evidently they were going to take no chances of a surprise on his part, hence their coming in pairs.