Reaching the house, a short, sharp knock at the door was answered by a rough-looking man, dressed in a suit of faded and shabby cloth.
"So you've got him!" was his laconic greeting.
"Yes, Joe! Now where shall we put him?"
"Come upstairs."
The two men set Bob down, and pushed him forward, and up a staircase, steep and dark. He was thrust into a room with a sloping roof, and the gag was removed from his mouth.
"What does all this mean?" he asked, angrily, turning to the two men whom he recognized by the light of the lantern which Joe Springer carried in his hand.
"It's all right, my lad!" said Brown. "All you've got to do is to keep quiet, and no harm will come to you."
"How long do you mean to keep me here?" asked Bob, with, a feeling of despair in his heart. He suspected now what it all meant.
"Two weeks, perhaps; but you will be well taken care of."
The men went out leaving the lantern behind them. Bob heard the bolt shot in the lock. He looked around him. There was a low pallet in the corner. He threw himself on it, and, brave boy as he was, came near shedding tears.