“You had better,” threateningly.
“No.”
“Remember, you are in my power, Dick Dare. You are a rebel spy, and also I owe you something for trying to capture me, in New York a few months ago and again last evening. Answer my question.”
“I will not give you any information that might be of use to you in your campaign against the patriot force,” said Dick, decidedly.
“You had better think well. I have the power to order you strung up to a tree as a rebel spy.”
“That doesn’t make any difference,” was the reply. “I will give you no information, so there is no use of your asking.”
Arnold glared at Dick angrily for a few moments, and then said: “Very well. Since you wish to be stubborn, you may take the consequences. I think I shall have you strung up, perhaps tomorrow, Richard Dare!”
Dick made no reply, and Arnold summoned a couple of soldiers. They entered, took charge of Dick, and conducted him to a cabin that was being used as a guard-house. They thrust Dick into the building and closed and fastened the door. The youth was left alone in the darkness to ponder his dubious situation.
He felt that his position was a desperate one, for he knew that Arnold bore him ill will for the part he had played in trying to effect the traitor’s capture in New York; and, too, he was a spy, and death was usually the fate of spies.
Dick decided that he must manage to make his escape, but he felt that this would be extremely difficult, for there were soldiers on guard in front of the building, and his hands were still bound.