"H'm! that's the rebel that said I shouldn't spend my own boy's money," the newcomer muttered. "I owe him a grudge and I'll pay it, too. No rebel strikes me for nothing!"
"You know him, do you, Fletch?" asked Hughson.
"Yes, I know him. I didn't know he was Dick Slater, but I know him, and I've got a grudge against him and I'm going to settle it. You was counting on taking him to the general, I suppose?"
"Yes, but get him out of the way. Some one might come in."
Dick was taken into a rear room where there was not much light and bound hand and foot. At length he heard footsteps in the passage outside, and then the door was opened and two men came in, followed by a boy carrying a lantern in his hand. The men picked Dick up and carried him out, but not before he had seen the boy's face, and the boy had seen him and had given him a swift look of intelligence. The boy was the one he had befriended, and however he happened to be here, whether he was leagued with these evil men or not, Dick knew that he would help him. The boy went ahead, down a flight of stairs to a damp cellar, and along a passage to some place where there was a damp smell and foul odors from the swamps along the river.
"Set him down, Bill," said one of the men, and Dick was placed on the ground on his back.
"Go after the bag, Tom," one man said, "or send your pop and the rest here."
"Won't do it!" said the boy. "Dad will beat me. Go yourself. I will watch him."
"Go on, Jeb."
"Go yourself, or come along. Tom ain't used to these things, and the old man will lick him, too. Knows you're here, does he, boy?"