Chapter XXIII: Defiance

Tom, a bound prisoner, watched the insolent professor who sat facing him. The latter had on his face a sneer of triumph, but mingled with it, as Tom could note, was a look that had in it not a little fear. For the desperate man had planned a desperate game, and he was not altogether sure how it would work out.

Tom steeled himself to meet what was coming. He did not know what it was, but that it was something that would concern himself, vitally, he was sure. And he was better prepared to meet what was coming than he had been an hour or so previous.

For now, though he was a prisoner, and bound, he was warm, and he had eaten. These things go far toward making courage in a man, or boy either, for that matter.

“Now,” said Professor Skeel, and the sneer on his face grew more pronounced, “we’ll talk business!”

“Oh, no, we won’t!” exclaimed Tom, quickly.

“We won’t?” and there was a sharp note in the man’s voice.

“I’ll have nothing to do with you,” went on Tom. “You brought me here against my will, and you are liable to severe penalties for what you did. As soon as I can get to an officer, I intend to cause your arrest, and the arrest of those two miserable tools of yours.

“I’m not at all afraid--don’t think it. You can’t keep me here for very long. Sooner or later I’ll get out, and then I’ll make it hot for you! That’s just what I’ll do--I’ll make it hot for you!”

During this little outburst on the part of Tom, Professor Skeel sat staring at his prisoner. He did not seem at all frightened by what Tom said, though the young man put all the force he could into his words. But Tom was observant. He noticed that the little look of worry did not leave the man’s face.

“I’ll make it so hot for you,” went on Tom, “that you’ll have to leave this part of the country. You’ll have to leave if you get the chance, and perhaps you won’t. My father and I will push this case to the end. I don’t know what your game is, but I can guess.”

“Well, since you can guess, perhaps you can guess what I’m going to do with you!” angrily interrupted the professor.

“No, I can’t, exactly,” spoke Tom, slowly, “but if it’s anything mean or low-down, you’ll do it. I know you of old. I’ve had dealing with you before.”

“Yes, and you’re going to have more!” the professor fairly shouted. “I’m going to get even with you for what you did for me. You caused me to lose my place at Elmwood Hall----”

“You deserved to lose it!” said Tom, cuttingly.

“And you mistreated me when we were out in that open boat----”

“Mistreated you!” fairly gasped Tom, amazed at the man’s hardness of mind. “Mistreated you, when you tried to steal the little water and food we had left!”

He could say no more. His mind went back vividly to the days of the wreck of the _Silver Star_, when he and others had been in great peril at sea. He had indeed prevented the professor from carrying out his evil designs, though Tom was not more harsh than needful. But now he was to suffer for that.

“I’ve got you where I want you,” went on Skeel, when Tom had become silent. “I’ve laid my plans well, and you fell into the trap. I won’t deny that the storm helped a lot, but I’ve got you now, and you’re going to do as I say, or it will be the worse for you. You’ll do as I say----”

“Don’t be too sure!” interrupted Tom.

“That’s enough!” snapped the angry man. “You may not realize that you are in my power, and that you’re up here in a lonely part of the woods, away from your friends. They don’t know where you are, and you don’t know where they are. They can’t help you. Those two men of mine will do as I say, and----”

“Oh, I’ve no doubt but that you’ve trained them well in your own class of scoundrelism,” said Tom, coolly.

“Silence!” fairly shouted the infuriated man. Tom ceased his talk because he chose, not because he was afraid.

Professor Skeel hesitated a moment, and then drew from his pocket some papers. Tom was at a loss to guess what they might be. In fact, he had but a dim idea why he had been captured and brought to the hut in the wilderness.

Some things the two men--Murker and Whalen--let fall, however, gave him an inkling of what was to come. So he did not show any great surprise when Professor Skeel, handing him a paper, said:

“That’s a copy of a letter I want you to write to your father. Copy it, sign it in your natural hand, without any changes whatever, or without making any secret signs on the paper, and give it back to me. When I get the right kind of an answer back, I’ll let you go--not before. Write that letter to your father!”

There was a veiled threat implied in the insolent command.

Professor Skeel held the letter out in front of Tom. The latter could not take it, of course, for his hands were tied.

“Oh!” exclaimed the plotter, as though he had just wakened to this fact. “Well, I’ll loosen your hands for you, but you must promise not to fight. Not that I’m afraid of you, for I can master you, but I don’t want to hurt you, physically, if I can help it.”

Tom did not altogether agree with the professor that he would be the master if it came to an encounter. For our hero was a vigorous lad, he played football and baseball, and his muscles were ready for instant call. True, he was tired from lack of rest and the hardships he had gone through, but he was not at all afraid of a “scrap,” as he afterward put it.

So, then, when Professor Skeel made the remark about the bonds, Tom was ready for what came next.

“I’ll loosen those ropes, so you can copy this letter, if you’ll promise not to attack me,” went on Skeel.

“I’ll promise nothing!” exclaimed Tom, defiantly.

“All right. Then I’ll have to call in my helpers to stand by,” grimly went on the former instructor. “They’ll take care of you if you cut up rough.”

He went to the door, and called out:

“Murker--Whalen! Come in. We may need you,” he added significantly.

Tom steeled himself for what was to come.

“Take off those ropes,” went on the professor, when his two mean men had come in. “Then, if he starts a row--let him have it!”

The words were coarse and rough, and the man’s manner and tone even more so.

“Are we to take off these ropes?” asked Murker.

“Yes, and then stand by. I’m going to make him write this letter. That will bring the cash.”

“That’s what we want!” exclaimed Whalen, with an unctious smile. “It’s the cash I’m after.”

“You’ll get none from my father!” cried Tom, beginning to understand the course of the plot.

“We’ll see about that,” muttered the professor. “Loose his bonds, but look out! He’s a tricky customer.”

“Not any more so than you are,” Tom said, promptly. “And I want to tell you here and now, when you have your witnesses present--mean and low as they are--I want to tell you that you’ll suffer for this when I get out. I’ll make it my business, and my father will also, to prosecute you to the full extent of the law!”

“Words--mere words!” sneered Skeel.

“You won’t get out until you do as the boss wants,” said Whalen.

“Don’t be so rough. Better give in, it will be easier,” spoke Murker, who seemed a little alarmed by what Tom said.

“I’ll attend to him,” said Skeel curtly. “Take off the ropes. Then you read this letter and copy and sign it!” he ordered.

A moment later Tom’s hands were free. He did not see any chance for making an escape then, so he waited, merely stretching his arms so that the bound muscles were more free. True, he might have made a rush on his captors, but the door had been locked, after the entrance of Murker and Whalen, and Tom did not see what opportunity he would have with three against him. He might be seriously hurt and that would spoil his chances for a future escape.

“Read that,” ordered Skeel, thrusting the paper into Tom’s hands. A glance showed that it was addressed to his father. It recited that Tom was in trouble, that he had been made a prisoner by a band of men who would release him only on payment of ten thousand dollars. Details were given as to how the money, in cash, must be sent, and Mr. Fairfield was urged to make no effort to trace Tom, or it would result seriously for the prisoner.

“Sign that and we’ll send it,” ordered Skeel.

Tom dropped the letter to the floor, disdaining to hand it back.

“What’s this?” fairly roared the professor. “Do you mean you won’t do as I say?”

“That’s just what I mean,” said Tom, coolly. “You may keep me here as long as you like, and you can do as you please, but I’ll never sign that letter. Go ahead! I’m not afraid of you!” and he faced his enemies defiantly.