“And fine stew, too!”
“It made me sick yesterday,” came from Randy.
“Well, you listen to us,” put in Davenport. “Unless you’re willing to do what we want you to, the grub is going to be a good deal worse instead of better. More than that, we’ll keep you in the cave all the time.”
“What is it you want us to do?” questioned Jack, although he already had an idea on that subject.
“We want all of you boys to write a letter to your fathers, stating that they had better pay the money that we have demanded of them and that otherwise you are afraid of what may happen to you. You can tell them that so far you have had the best of food and the best of treatment generally, but that you have been threatened with starvation if the money isn’t forthcoming. We want all of you to make that letter just as strong as you can. You write the letter,” he went on, pointing to Jack, “and all of you sign it with your full names, so that your folks will know it’s a genuine communication.”
“Excuse me, Davenport, but I’m not writing any such letter,” declared Jack flatly.
“Neither am I,” put in Fred.
“Nor I,” added the twins in concert.
“You will write it!” bellowed Davenport, his anger rising swiftly. “If you don’t write it I’ll give each of you a horsewhipping.”
“That’s the talk!” cried Tate.