He did not finish, but Ned knew what was meant.
“I hope they feed us, anyhow,” sighed Tom’s manager. “They gave me pretty decent food back in the farmhouse, but I haven’t had any breakfast, and I need it.”
After this there was silence. A few minutes later the door was unlocked and Torpy came in with two trays of fairly good food.
“The boss says you’re to eat and then he’ll be up and question you,” the man reported.
“He won’t get much out of me,” snapped Tom.
“Nor me!” added Ned.
“You’d better not r’ile the boss,” was Torpy’s advice as he put the trays down on a chair.
Ned was very hungry, and Tom Swift, in spite of his rage, anxiety, and his recent ducking, was also beginning to feel an appetite. So the young men ate and then, casually, Tom began strolling around the room seeking a possible chance to escape. To his disappointment the apartment was more solid than it looked. The door was heavy and securely locked and the window covered with a heavy wire screen and iron bars. Evidently the room had been used before as a prison.
But Tom Swift did not give up very easily, and now he had still several cards to play in the desperate game with the three men. When the food had been satisfactorily disposed of, the door opened again and big Janner came swaggering in.
“Well, I see you had your appetites with you, boys,” he remarked. “And now we’ll get down to business. It’s you I want to talk with, Tom Swift, and not your manager that we took away in a hurry by mistake for you. He don’t know the answers to some of the questions I’m going to ask.”