Tearing some rags into strips, Joe tied the boy’s hands and feet and their own handkerchiefs were used to put around their mouths. The job completed, they were tossed into the corner. Pete, who was watching the procedure, now said, “All right. Now grab those two packages and take them to the boss. And ask him what to do with these kids.”
“And what are you gonna do?” Joe asked with malice.
“I’m going to stay here and keep an eye on these kids.”
“That’s all right with me,” said Joe. He went to the other end of the cellar and picked up two packages wrapped in plain brown paper. Nodding to his mate, he called, “Okey, I’ll be going now.”
“And don’t take all day coming back,” snarled Pete.
Joe was gone. Pete brought over a chair and leaned it against the wall. Sitting down, he took a penknife out of his pocket, placed his gun in his lap and began to clean his fingernails. “It’s too bad you kids have to pry into things you shouldn’t,” he muttered, addressing himself to the boys without looking at them. “It ain’t healthy. You’re liable to get bumped off one of these days and then where will it get you?” He paused for a moment to think and scratch his head. “Mind your own business is my motto,” he continued. “If everybody would mind their own business, everything would be all right. As it is, people get into the trouble, like you kids, when you shouldn’t.”
He stopped talking. With their hands tied behind their backs, the boys worked feverishly to loosen their bonds. But they had to work without being suspected by their captor. And what’s more, Joe had done a good and expert job. The bonds were tied so strongly they could barely move their wrists.