He walked about the bare apartment and then paused to listen.
All was silent save for the rattle of the wagons and the shrill cries of the playing children in the street below.
"Humph! I thought I heard a footstep," he went on. "I must be getting nervous."
He left the apartment, and was gone several minutes. When he came back he raised Ralph in his strong arms as if the boy were a small child.
"Now I am going to lock you in a closet for a few hours," he said, harshly. "Don't you dare to attempt an escape, or it will be the worse for you, mind that!"
He walked with his burden to a rear room. Here was situated, in one corner, a large kitchen pantry, now bare of even the shelving.
Into the pantry Ralph was thrust, in a sitting position. Then the door was closed and bolted on him. Presently he heard Martin leave the room and hurry downstairs.
The poor boy was dazed and bewildered by the rough treatment he had received. For some time he sat where he had been placed, not daring to move for fear his tormentor would come back and finish his evil work.
"There is something behind it all," he thought, dismally. "Martin is doing this for some purpose. What can that purpose be?"
Ralph did not brood over the mystery long. As the minutes passed slowly by and Martin did not come back, the youth began to speculate on the chances of escape.