Left to themselves, Ned and Tom looked at each other with somewhat woebegone and puzzled faces. Their dungeon was dimly lighted and was damp and depressing. It was almost like a prison cell.
"Well, I'm not going to stay here long!" declared Tom determinedly.
"What are you going to do?" asked Ned.
"Get out the first chance I see. This is sure rotten!"
"It will be if they don't feed us," agreed his chum. But they did not have to worry long on that score, for presently a man they had not seen before appeared with a tray of as good food as had before been served to them. They were hungry and ate heartily. Then they were left alone and talked matters over.
"What do you think of that fellow's talk about Mary?" asked Tom. "Think there was any basis for it?"
"That drunk seemed to know what he was talking about. But you know Mary better than I do," answered Ned. "However, I don't believe Mary would ever consent to marry this Barton."
"Don't you?" cried Tom, and Ned saw that he caught at this straw.
"No, I don't. I believe, for reasons of his own, Barton has been telling that story and he's circulated it among these men, hoping it would reach you and break down your nerve!"
"It shan't!" cried Tom.