The two captives found themselves in what had once been a stately reception hall, but which was now in almost the same state of ruin and decay as was the old mansion where the young men had first lost their House on Wheels. However, they had little chance for observation, as they were fairly rushed out through a rear door, along a dimly lighted passage, and thrust into a dark room. The door was pulled shut and locked after them.
"Look here!" cried Tom angrily. "This is a rotten way to treat even a dog, and we haven't done anything to you fellows! We want something hot to drink and some dry clothes."
"Keep your shirt on, buddy," advised the man on the other side of the door. "You'll be treated decent—anyhow for a while. I'll see you get some dry things in a short time."
He was as good as his word, coming back in about fifteen minutes with a pile of old but dry and serviceable garments. At the same time he brought a tray of sandwiches and a pot of hot tea. This last was most refreshing, and Tom and Ned ate and drank gratefully, once they had taken off their wet clothes and put on the dry ones.
By the light of a lantern their guard carried they saw that they were prisoners in a fairly large stone room containing one window with iron bars across it. Upon what this window looked they had no means of guessing in the darkness outside it.
"Where are we going to sleep?" asked Ned of the man who brought the food and clothes.
"What's the matter with those bunks?" the man asked, with a chuckle.
He held his lantern in a dark corner and there, where the prisoners had not before noticed them, were two cots with pillows and blankets on them. "Turn in there," was the suggestion, "They're as comfortable as those in that traveling house of yours, I reckon."
"Where is my House?" demanded Tom angrily.
"Ask me no questions and I'll tell you no lies!" replied the man, though not unkindly. "Better take it easy now."