“Camp out!” repeated several of the party, not fully comprehending the idea of the fertile Pinkerton’s brilliant mind.
“Starve him out, I mean,” explained Ben. “We will stay here and keep him a close prisoner till he is willing to come down and take his licking like a man.”
Stupid as this plan seemed to me, it was promptly adopted. But the enemy retired out of hearing to complete the arrangement, though they were near enough to fall upon me if I attempted to escape. I did not consider myself a match for the whole of them on the ground, and I had expected to be terribly mauled, as I should have been if my wits had not served me well.
Presently I saw Waddie leave the party, and walk towards his father’s house. I concluded that he had gone to change his clothes, for his plight was as disagreeable as it could be. His companions took position near the foot of the steps, with the clubs in their hands, ready to receive me if I attempted to evacuate my fortress. I was quite comfortable, and rather curious to know what they intended to do.
I waited an hour for the return of Waddie, during which time I studied the structure in which I was a prisoner, and its surroundings, in order to prepare myself for action when it should be necessary. It was plain to me that the scion was taking more time than was needed to change his clothes. I thought something had happened at the house; and in this impression I was soon confirmed by the appearance of Colonel Wimpleton, attended by two men.
CHAPTER XIII.
CAPTAIN SYNDERS.
There were not many men in Centreport who were not either the toadies or the employees of Colonel Wimpleton. He was an absolute monarch in the place, and his will was law, to all intents and purposes, though of course he did not operate with all as he did with me. Ordinarily, and especially when not opposed, he was a very gentlemanly man, affable to his equals,—if he had any equals in town,—and condescending to his inferiors.
I was not quite willing to believe that Waddie had called upon his father for aid. It was more probable that the scion’s dirty plight had attracted the attention of his parents, and called forth an explanation. But it was all the same to me, since Colonel Wimpleton was coming with efficient aid to capture and reduce me to proper subjection. It was no common enemy with whom I was called upon to contend, but the mighty man of Centreport, whose will none dared to oppose.
As the party approached, I saw that one of the men was Captain Synders, the ex-skipper of a canal boat, who had been promoted to the honors and dignities of a constable. I was somewhat appalled when I considered his official position, for he was armed with authority, and it would be hardly safe for me to offer any resistance to him. The coming of Colonel Wimpleton nipped in the bud the scheme of the bullies to camp out around me, and I was rather glad to have the case settled without any unnecessary delay.