"Had he tumbled to anything much?"
"That we don't know, for he won't say a word—aye, yes or no."
"And what does the cap'n mean to do with him?"
"I give it up. One of the boys told me that in the end he meant to have him knifed."
"The best thing to do. 'Dead men tell no tales,'" remarked the other.
Here they let the thing drop.
I wanted to find out where this Black Hole was, but dared ask no questions, nor press the subject of the young fellow's captivity.
For the present I was compelled to adopt a waiting policy, or run the risk of killing the confidence I had already gained, by the asking of too many questions.
Still, it was a horrible thought to me that, while I was doing nothing, Shadow (otherwise Mat Morris) was in captivity in the Black Hole, a place whose name implied nothing but the horrible, and in hourly danger of being butchered like an animal.
In this dilemma I changed my disguise and took to tracking these men to find out where their head-quarters were, presuming that it would be there where the Black Hole would be found.