ng will be destroyed if
he attempts to publish the alleged facts he has on hand."

"I think," Frank said, "that I can trust his good judgment. He can take
care of himself."

"Then you refuse to send the message?"

"I certainly do."

"You seem to be a fat, healthy sort of a boy," laughed the other, changing
the subject, apparently, with a suddenness which astonished the boy.

"I have no cause to complain," Frank said.

"How long do you think you can live without food?" was the next question.

Frank saw the meaning of the fellow in his angry eyes and dropped back
into his chair. The boys in the next room were now talking excitedly, and
some of the exclamations could be heard.

"If you don't open the door we'll break it down."

That was Harry Stevens. The reply was too faint to be heard.

"What are you doing to Frank, anyway?"

That was Harry Stevens' voice again. The question was immediately followed
by a bang on the door.

"Keep back," a voice said. "This gun is loaded."

The situation was a serious one, and Frank blamed himself for getting into
such a trap. If he had remained at the cottage, he thought, there would
have been no immediate danger to his friends.

"Perhaps, after a week's fast, you might have strength enough left to
write such a communication to your father as I suggest?"

The manner was unbearable, the tone insulting, and Frank could hardly
restrain himself from attacking the fellow.

"In a week," he said, his eyes flashing, "you and your associates will be
in some federal prison."

"You talk bravely," said the other, "and I observe that you are glancing
about in search of some way out of this, to you, disagreeable situation.
Spare your pains! Even if you could vanquish me and my associate in the
next room, you could not leave the house. It is guarded by a dozen picked
men."

"Is that as true as the other things you have said?" asked the boy.

The Colonel laughed until his face turned red and his sides shook.

"You are a bright boy," he said. "It is quite a pleasure to do business
with you. A very capable boy."

He went to the door of the room and looked out.

"Where are the men?" he asked.

The dwarf, who had been sitting on a rude table near the door, swinging
his short legs in the air, looked up with a slight frown.

"I haven't got 'em," he said.

"Well, see if you can find them."

The dwarf, called Jumbo by those who knew him, got off the table and
pointed to a window.