"Well, Eddie, how do you feel?" he demanded in a tone which seemed to be intended to be friendly.
"I feel bad enough even to suit you, I guess," replied Ed. "What have you brought me away out here for? What do you intend to do with me?"
"I intend to take you to Ethel if you will go quietly," was the answer. "If you won't do that, I suppose I shall have to take you by force. Which shall it be?"
"Oh, I'll go," said Ed. "Got to, I suppose. Does Ethel stand for the way you have treated me?"
"Ethel is my wife," replied Pow Chow. "She stands for anything I stand for—see? Get out and behave yourself now, Eddy, and you will come to no harm. I am sorry they kept you so long without feeding you. That was a mistake."
Ed now allowed Pow Chow to help him out of the wagon.
The effects of the drugged cigar had not altogether departed yet, as he found when he got on his feet.
They were out in the country and close to the shore of some large body of salt water, but it was not the ocean. Ed could see lights on the opposite shore, which seemed to be a long distance away.
They turned up a lane and came to a small frame house standing back among trees. Ed could not see any other house near.
Pow Chow led him around to the rear, and as they approached Ed saw Ethel appear at the open door.