"Yes, that's our game, and as you look like a pretty good feeder, I guess it won't take long."
"Perhaps not," said Bob, as Reed left.
Poor Bob! He ate up every crumb of his dinner. The prospect was dark enough, to say the least, but he had not lost heart, for an idea had occurred to him which he intended to put into practice that night. As there was nothing else to do he spent the time lying on the cot thinking. About three o'clock, King looked in.
"Ready to tell us?" he asked.
"Not yet," was Bob's reply.
"All right, just as you say. I suppose the old saying, that you can lead a horse to water but you can't make him drink, holds in your case, but if this horse don't drink pretty soon, he'll wish he'd never been born." Then, after a moment's pause, he continued, in a kinder tone: "Come now, boy, what's the use? We've got all the trump in this game and you've got to give in sooner or later, so why not do it now and save yourself trouble?"
"You seem to be on top just at present, for a fact," agreed Bob, "but just the same I'm not going to give in just now." King muttered something about him soon wishing he had and left the room.
That night he got no supper. Now, going without his meals did not, in the least, agree with Bob's disposition, at any time, and now he had much more than hunger to rouse his anger, and by eleven o'clock, he was, as he put it to himself, fighting mad.
"I haven't heard any dogs and I don't believe they've got any," he thought. "Anyhow, I'm going to run the risk if I can get through that door." Fortunately, he had not been searched and as he had a good strong jackknife, it had occurred to him that he might cut a hole in the door large enough to get his hand through. He waited till one o'clock, and then began his attack. It was pretty hard cutting, as it was spruce, but he kept steadily at it and in about an hour had a small hole through, and another half hour of hard cutting enabled him to enlarge it sufficiently to pass his hand through, turn the key and slip back the bolt. "Now for it," he thought. "If they've got a dog I'll give him the fight of his life."
Cautiously, he crept down the stairs, which creaked a little in spite of his efforts, holding the open knife in his hand. He finally reached the bottom without any mishap and, so far as he could tell, without being heard. Unlocking the door, he stepped softly out on the porch. It was a beautiful starlight night and, although there was no moon, it did not seem very dark. Bob was just beginning to feel easier, when he heard a low growl and, looking round, he saw a huge mastiff eyeing him a few feet away. "Good dog," he whispered, thinking he might make friends with him, but the brute continued to growl and slowly crept nearer.