Yet he was not without hope. He still had the knife in his pocket. It was ready for use and he meant to use it.
No doubt he would be taken back to the attic. If Luke Robbins should be his companion, all the better. After cutting his bonds the knife might end the life of the man who had inflicted such humiliation upon him.
He did not speak, but his eyes betrayed him. There was such a revengeful gleam in them that Luke read their meaning without trouble.
“If I am ever at the mercy of that ruffian,” he thought, “I wouldn’t give much for my chance of keeping a whole skin.”
When the outlaw lay securely bound Luke summoned the farmer.
“Watch him for five minutes, Mr. Mason,” he said. “I am going to the attic to learn if I can how he got loose.”
Ezekiel Mason looked uncomfortable, but did not object. He was half afraid of John Fox even in his helpless condition.
“Have you a revolver?”
“Yes.”
“Then take it out, and if he makes an effort to escape shoot him without a moment’s hesitation.”