CAPTAIN FENLICK TRIES TO MAKE TERMS
When Bob came to his senses all was pitch dark around him.
His head ached and there was a pain in his back which told that he had
been treated anything but kindly since becoming unconscious.
He tried to rise to his feet, and then found how securely he was bound.
“A prisoner!” he thought. “I wonder what they are going to do with me.”
Slowly the night wore along until the first streaks of dawn began to
show themselves through the dirty panes of the one window of which the
tenement room boasted.
The filthy condition of the apartment made Bob shiver. Bugs were
countless and the dirt in the corners was a foot deep and gave forth an
odor which was vile.
“If somebody doesn’t come soon, I’ll die here,” he reasoned. “Phew! but
isn’t it hot!” For the window was closed, cutting off every particle of
ventilation.
Another hour went by and then came a rattle at the keyhole of the
door, followed by the entrance of Captain Fenlick.
“So you have come to your senses, eh?” remarked the captain of the
Vixen, as he dropped on a bench which stood near.
“So it is you who attacked me,” cried Bob. “What did you do it for?”
“Ask me no questions and I’ll tell you no lies,” grinned the captain.
“How do you feel?”
“Vile,” answered Bob, promptly. “Can’t you give a fellow some fresh
air?”
“If I open the window you’ll be yelling for help.”
“How do you know that?”
“I know your kind. I’ve dealt with ’em before.”
“Why did you bring me here?”
“I told you before not to ask questions.”
“But I am going to ask them, just the same. You had no right to attack
me.”
“Bah! Don’t talk like a kid. Might makes right, according to my notion.”
Suddenly Bob thought of the square red book and pressed his arm to his
breast pocket.
“You stole that book!” he muttered angrily. “It was a put-up job,
getting me away from the Arrow.”
“I admit it.”
“What are you going to do with that book?”
“Keep it.”
“You shan’t do it! It’s mine.”
“You little fool, don’t you realize that you are in my power?” roared
Captain Fenlick savagely. “And, let me tell you, you won’t get out of
it in a hurry.”
“Perhaps I shall.”
“Not much!” The captain rose to his feet and began to pace the dirty
floor. “See here, let us come to terms. It will be best for you, mark
my words.”
“What terms?”
“You are in my power.”
“Well?”
“I could kill you and nobody would be the wiser.”
At these words Bob could not help but shiver, yet he put on a bold
front.
“You wouldn’t dare!” he cried.
“You don’t know me, Baxter. When I cut loose I stop at nothing. It will
pay you to make terms with me.”
“I asked you before what terms you meant.”
“I mean this: You are in my power; you know the secret of the lost
treasure ship, and so do I. You were going to hunt for the treasure
ship with Barry Filmore, a very rich and very greedy young man. If you
went with him and found the gold, what do you suppose he would do with
you? He wouldn’t give you a cent of it.”
“He has promised me my fair share.”
“But he doesn’t mean to give it to you; on the contrary, I overheard
him telling another man that if he got the gold he intended to leave
you behind at the South Pole to shift for yourself.”
“Captain Fenlick, you are a first-class fraud!” cried Bob, hotly. “I
can read faces, even though I am but a boy, and I would rather take
Barry Filmore’s word than believe your oath, so there!”
“You imp!” snarled the captain of the Vixen, and striding forward he
struck Bob a cruel blow on the mouth. “If you won’t come to terms
now, I reckon you’ll do it when you get good and hungry.” And then he
stalked out of the room again, locking the door as before.
The blow made Bob’s teeth bleed and gave him a nasty cut on the lip.
“Oh, if only my hands were free,” thought the lad. Then he crawled over
to the window.
“Here goes, if I die for it!” And the next instant he had struck the
lower sash such a blow that the six panes of glass it contained were
shattered to atoms.
The sound of the falling glass had scarcely reached the bottom of the
alleyway when Captain Fenlick rushed in once again.
“Thought you’d try a new game, eh?” he snarled. “I’ll fix you for it!”
“Help! help!” yelled Bob at the top of his lungs and with his head
close to the window. “Help! Hel----”
His cry was cut short by the captain, who pulled him back, threw him
headlong, and then sat on his back.
“I’ve settled with your kind before,” he cried, and caught Bob by the
windpipe. “Now will you be still!”
He held the boy so tight that soon Bob’s eyes were staring from their
sockets and a flashing light danced before his eyes. When the youth
was almost dead for the want of breath he let go his hold, and still
resting on the body, made a gag of his big bandanna handkerchief, which
he speedily stuffed into Bob’s mouth.
Then came a tramping in the hallway.
“Who’s there?” cried Captain Fenlick, in alarm.
“It’s me, cap’n,” came in a hoarse voice.
“All right, Basker. Stand on guard and don’t let anybody come up here.”
“Who broke out the window?”
“The boy. If anybody asks about it, say it was an accident.”
“Ay, ay!” And Basker walked away. He was one of the men from the Vixen
and Captain Fenlick’s tool.
As soon as Basker was gone, the captain examined Bob’s bonds to see if
they were still secure.
Satisfied on this point, he crossed the tenement room to where there
was a closet filled with rubbish.
He threw the rubbish out, and then, catching up Bob’s body, forced the
lad into the closet.
“Now you can stay there, and see how you like it,” he growled, and shut
the door tight. There was no lock, but a strong button, and this he
turned into place.
A moment later Bob found himself alone.
His situation was now ten times worse than before. If the air in the
room had been stifling, that in the closet was positively unbearable.
With the gag in his mouth, Bob could scarcely breathe, and it was not
long before his head began to swim.
He was hungry, yet his hunger was not half as great as his thirst.
His mouth felt as dry as parchment, while the gag made him cough
incessantly.
The day dragged by slowly until nightfall. By this time the youth was
more than half unconscious.
Then Captain Fenlick appeared again. In one hand he held a big sack and
some strong cord. He was followed by the sailor, Basker.
“Now then, out with you,” said the captain, and caught Bob by the
collar.
The boy was too weak to sit up, and becoming alarmed, the captain
fanned the prisoner.
“Fainted!” declared Basker. “Look’s ter me like he was most dead.”
“Reckon he’s playing off on us,” growled Captain Fenlick; nevertheless
he removed the gag and pulled Bob closer to the broken window, that he
might get some air.
As soon as the lad had revived a bit, the captain of the Vixen applied
a sponge saturated with chloroform to his nose.
Bob went off in a stupor, and while in this he was placed in the bag,
the top of which was tied over him.
Then both men carried him downstairs and out of the rear of the
alleyway.
Here stood a covered wagon, into which the odd bundle was placed,
Basker getting in beside the close prisoner. Then Captain Fenlick
sprang up to the seat, caught up the reins, and a hurried start was
made for the Vixen, which lay seven blocks away.