“What are you going to do with me to-night?” he asked.
“We have a comfortable place provided,” answered Luke. “Mr. Mason, if you will give your assistance, we will show our guest where we propose to put him.”
“Unbind me and I will save you the trouble.”
“No doubt; but there are some objections to that.”
The outlaw was lifted from the wagon and carried upstairs to the attic. His ankles as well as his wrists were securely tied, so that he was unable to walk.
“Friend Fox,” said Luke politely, “there is a bed and there is a shakedown,” pointing to the blankets on the floor. “You can take your choice. I hope you will like your hotel.”
“I shall like it better if it provides refreshments,” replied Fox. “I am famished.”
“I am sure Mrs. Mason will furnish you with a meal. I will speak to her.”
The outlaw seated himself on the bed and the cord about his wrists was loosened so that he might be able to eat. This might have been regarded as dangerous, as affording him an opportunity to escape, but for two reasons. In a chair opposite sat Luke Robbins with a revolver in his hand, watching his prisoner sharply.
“If you make any attempt to escape,” he said quietly, “I shall shoot. Now you understand and will be guided accordingly.”