“That’ll be used agin’ yer at yer trial!” declared the farmer malevolently. “Yes, sir, that’ll be used agin’ yer. Threats of violence, hey? Oh, the squire will fix you fellers good and plenty.”
The doors were banged to and padlocked on the outside. For some time they could hear the farmer pacing up and down as if waiting to see if they would not make some further complaint. But they all remained silent. They were determined not to give him the satisfaction of thinking that he had worried them. Heiny Dill even began to sing to himself.
By and by the steady pacing of the farmer’s feet outside died away.
“I guess he’s gone to eat supper,” said Tom. “My! how hungry I am.”
This reminded all the others of their appetites, too.
“Maybe he’ll send us something to eat,” suggested Ned hopefully.
But his optimism was not to be rewarded. It grew dark and the captives in the barn sat supperless and disconsolate. They did not face a pleasant prospect, supposing the squire to be all that he had been represented by the malevolent old farmer.
How long they sat thus they did not know, but on Jack’s suggestion they were about to find themselves beds in the hay when there came a tapping at the barn door.
“Supper!” cried Tom, but it wasn’t, it was the man called Reuben, or Reuben Rugg, as he announced himself.
“What do you want?” asked Jack.