"You want water?" snapped the hermit.
"Yes, I do want water more than anything else in the world at this minute, but there is no necessity for dragging me to it. I can walk."
"Water in there," answered the hermit, thrusting Tad into a dark recess. No sooner had he done so than the lad heard a heavy wooden door slammed shut and a bar thrown across it from the outside.
Tad, instantly realizing that he was being shut in, threw himself against the barrier with all his strength. But he might as well have tried to break through the rocks which walled him in on the other three sides. He shouted at the top of his voice, hoping that Chunky might, perchance, hear him and come to his rescue. Chunky could use the rifle that hung in the holster on Tad's saddle and intimidate the hermit if he understood Tad's predicament.
At that instant the lad's ears caught the faint trickle of water. The sound stirred him to sudden action. "Where was it?" he asked himself, his hands groping over the rocks about him.
"Here it is!" he cried exultingly.
What he had found was a tiny stream that was creeping down the side of the rocks. Tad pressed his lips against the cool stones, enabling him to lick a few drops of the precious fluid into his parched mouth. Never had anything tasted so refreshing to him.
"A-h-h-h-h!" gasped the boy, taking a fresh breath preparatory to another draught. "It's almost worth being made a prisoner for this. I'll bet Chunky would wish to be in here if he knew. And I almost wish he were."
As if in answer to his expressed wish, the door was suddenly pushed inward, a heavy body was hurled in, landing in a heap on the rocky floor.
The door slammed shut and the bar once more fell into place.