"You know all about it. And we'll prove it too—when you are under arrest."
"I won't talk to you!" howled Baxter.
"Come with me," he added to the tramps, and then the three quitted the building, leaving Torn to his reflections, which were dismal enough.
"I'm in a pickle and no mistake," he murmured. "What will they do with me next?"
Hour after hour went by and still Tom was left alone. In the meantime Baxter had held a long conversation with the tramps and had formed a compact with them, paying them the ten dollars as agreed.
The sun was shining brightly when at last Dan Baxter re-entered the old building.
"Getting hungry, I suppose," he remarked, with a wicked grin.
"Not particularly so," answered Tom coldly. He was hungry, but he was not going to admit it.
"I suppose you would like to have your liberty," went on the bully.
"Don't ask superfluous questions, Baxter. Let us get down to business. Why did you make me a prisoner, and what are you going to do with me?"