"Now, you keep real quiet and you won't get hurt," said the person who
had spoken before. "If you start to raise a row--well, you'll wish you
hadn't, that's all."

"What are you going to do?"

"Keep quiet, and you'll find out before very long."

"Do you know this is a very high-handed proceeding?"

"Shut up!"

The tone was extra sharp, and Dave received a rough shake of the
shoulder. Not knowing but what he might be knocked down, he relapsed
into silence.

Presently his feet were unfastened, and he was led out of the room and
down the stairs. Then the party made its way to the rear of the house,
and went outside.

"Now we are going to give you a little sleigh-ride for your health,"
said the person who had spoken before.

As there was no snow on the ground Dave felt this must mean a ride on
the river, and he was not mistaken. A horse and a low box-sleigh were
at hand, and into the turnout Dave was lifted, the fellow who had spoken
getting on one side of him and somebody else on the other. Then still
another party took up the reins, and started to drive off, over the ice,
which was just thick enough to bear the weight of such an outfit.

Although Dave's arms were tied to his sides, he could move his hands a
little, and he managed to get hold of a good-sized pin, which had been
fastened to a corner of his overcoat. As the sleigh moved over the
smooth surface of the river he resolved to make an effort to learn the
identity of the silent fellow beside him, and so moved the pin around,
and shoved it towards the individual as far as possible.

"Ouch!" came the sudden exclamation, as the point of the pin reached its
mark, and the fellow leaped partly to his feet. "What in thunder----"
And then the speaker broke off short.

"I know you, Link Merwell!" cried Dave. "I thought all along it was
you."

"I'm not Merwell!" growled the fellow, in a deep voice. "Don't you dare
to stick me with that pin again, or I'll mash you!" And then he refused
to say any more. But he gave Dave's arm such a pinch that it was black
and blue for a long time afterwards.

With the bag over his head, Dave could not hear very well, yet he felt
tolerably certain that the fellow was Link Merwell, and if this was so,
then most likely the driver of the sleigh was Nick Jasniff. But who the
third party could be was still a mystery.

"Some old enemy I have forgotten," reasoned the captive. And then he
wondered where he was being taken, and for