"What's that?" cried Roy, a sudden fire coming into his eyes, and his hands clenching themselves ready for a fray. "I must say you've got nerve to do this. I'm going to get up, and you and I are going to have a tussel! I guess I haven't roped wild steers, and ridden bucking broncos, for nothing!"
He threw off the covers, noting for the first time that he was fully dressed. But, as he attempted to approach Mr. Wakely a dizziness overcame him, and he sank back, trembling on the bed.
"You see I am right," went on the plotter with an evil smile. "You had better stay where you are."
It seemed to Roy as if all his strength had left him. He had never felt so weak before, save once, when he was recovering from a severe fever.
"Where am I; and what do you want?" he managed to ask.
"Now if you'll promise to lie quietly, I'll tell you," went on the man. "I guess I'll not take any chances though. I'll tie you in bed, and you can listen then."
It did not take him long, in Roy's weakened condition, to fasten the boy securely in the bed, by means of ropes which he took from the cupboard.
"There," remarked Mr. Wakely when he had finished. "I think you'll stay there for a while. Now listen. You have been brought here for a certain purpose. I can't tell you just what it is, but, if you behave yourself, no harm will come to you."
