As has been stated, this last part of the conversation was not overheard by the boys. They knew that it must be about matters of special importance. But they had no chance of talking it over among themselves. Their feigned slumber turned to real shortly after the men came to bed.
Raikes was up before dawn. He cooked himself a breakfast, ate it hastily and departed.
It was after nine o’clock when the boys got awake. They missed Raikes at once. Bogle was setting the table, and Sparwick was frying slices of venison. The boys were kindly treated during the day, but their arms were kept tightly bound, except at meal times.
They were now pretty much resigned to the situation. They knew that it was hopeless to think of escape or of preventing, by any means, the extortion of money from Mr. Larkins.
Brick, who by rights, should have been most concerned, was least so.
“Don’t you fellows worry,” he said. “My father will pay the money, and I don’t suppose he’ll mind it much. I’m only sorry that you should get into such a scrape on my account. But just as soon as the money comes we’ll all be free.”
This was but cold consolation. The day dragged along in so dreary and tedious a manner that the boys regarded a week or ten days of such captivity with the utmost horror.
The weather had moderated during the previous night, and in the middle of the morning a drizzling rain began to fall. So at dinnertime Bogle and Sparwick held a brief and secret conversation. As a result of this, they decided to postpone their removal to the Rock House until the following day.
Late in the afternoon the sky cleared, and the weather blew up cold again. At bedtime a stiff wind was howling around the cabin.
In the middle of the night Jerry got awake with a start. He felt restless and uneasy. The ropes on his arms pained him. He raised himself to a sitting posture and looked around.