Dick Dare was unable to break the hold of the man who had seized him. He struggled fiercely, but as the man was a giant in size, and very strong, he was thrown upon the ground and was utterly helpless. The man held the youth without seemingly having to exert himself very greatly.
“Who are you?” pantingly asked Dick. “And why have you seized me?”
“My name is Gabe Gurley,” was the reply. “I’m a loyalist, an’ as I know ye have been runnin’ frum ther Injuns, what are helpin’ the British, ye must be a rebel, an’ so I’ve grabbed ye, an’ll hold ye till I fin’ out about ye.”
“You had better let me go,” said Dick sternly. “You have no right to hold me.”
“Wal, I’m goin’ to hold ye ennyhow. I’ll jest bind yer arms, an’ then ye’ll come with me to my cabin.”
The fellow then bound Dick’s wrists together, with a piece of rope that he produced from a pocket, after which he allowed him to rise, then he took hold of his arm and conducted him through the woods a distance of nearly a mile, when they reached a rude cabin that stood in the depths of a thick growth of bushes and timber.
The fellow lighted a candle, and then Dick saw that his captor was a ruffian in appearance, a huge giant of a fellow, who looked capable of murder, if he took a notion.
“He’s a regular desperado,” thought Dick.
The ruffian turned and surveyed his prisoner. “Humph,” he grunted presently. “Ye’re a youngster. Who are ye, ennyhow?”
Dick decided that it would be best to give a fictitious name, so he said that his name was Dick Fenton, and that he lived about one hundred miles to the northward and was on his way to visit relatives who lived about fifty or seventy-five miles farther south.