"I suppose that will answer," growled the Red Rover. "He cannot possibly get out of there handcuffed, that is certain. In with you."
"Pray put yourselves to as little trouble as possible on my account," Dick politely requested as he stepped into the room. "When you are at leisure, Captain Joaquin, let me have an interview."
"To what purpose?" was demanded.
"You will, in justice, give me a chance for my life, of course."
"We will talk about that when I get ready," was the snarl. "For the present you remain here."
He closed the door with that, and Dick heard him secure it on the other side. The prince of detectives knew that he could look for little mercy at the hands of the Red Rover.
The room into which Dick had been thrust was light. There was one window, rather small and through which it would be impossible for the prisoner to climb with his hands secured as they were. It gave him a view of the side of the pocket opposite to the entrance.
There was a bed, a couple of chairs, and a stand, in the way of furniture.
Dick threw himself on the bed, for his head was beating and throbbing as if ready to split, and his wound was very painful, though slight.
He could hear Captain Joaquin and the woman talking in the main room of the cabin, but could not make out what they were saying. He heard also other voices from another direction.