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Cast Upon the Breakers

Page 33

by Jr. Horatio Alger


  CHAPTER XXXIII.

  UNDERGROUND.

  Rodney realized his position. The alternative was not a pleasant one.Either he must remain in the power of these men, or cost his friend Mr.Pettigrew a large sum as ransom. There was little hope of changing thedetermination of his captors, but he resolved to try what he could do.

  "Mr. Pettigrew is under no obligations to pay money out for me," hesaid. "I am not related to him, and have not yet known him six months."

  "That makes no difference. You are his friend, and he likes you."

  "That is the very reason why I should not wish him to lose money on myaccount."

  "Oh, very well! It will be bad for you is he doesn't come to your help."

  "Why? What do you propose to do to me?" asked Rodney boldly.

  "Better not ask!" was the significant reply.

  "But I want to know. I want to realize my position."

  "The least that will happen to you is imprisonment in this cave for aterm of years."

  "I don't think I should like it but you would get tired of standingguard over me."

  "We might, and in that case there is the other thing."

  "What other thing?"

  "If we get tired of keeping you here, we shall make short work withyou."

  "Would you murder me?" asked Rodney, horror struck, as he might well be,for death seems terrible to a boy just on the threshold of life.

  "We might be obliged to do so."

  Rodney looked in the faces of his captors, and he saw nothing toencourage him. They looked like desperate men, who would stick atnothing to carry out their designs.

  "I don't see why you should get hold of me," he said. "If you hadcaptured Mr. Pettigrew himself you would stand a better chance of makingit pay."

  "There is no chance of capturing Pettigrew. If there were we wouldprefer him to you. A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush."

  "How much ransom do you propose to ask?"

  This Rodney said, thinking that if it were a thousand dollars he mightbe able to make it good to his friend Jefferson. But he was destined tobe disappointed.

  "Five thousand dollars," answered the chief speaker.

  "Five thousand dollars!" ejaculated Rodney in dismay. "Five thousanddollars for a boy like me!"

  "That is the sum we want."

  "If it were one thousand I think you might get it."

  "One thousand!" repeated the other scornfully. "That wouldn't half payus."

  "Then suppose you call it two thousand?"

  "It won't do."

  "Then I suppose I must make up my mind to remain a prisoner."

  "Five thousand dollars wouldn't be much to a rich man like Pettigrew.We have inquired, and found out that he is worth at least a hundredthousand dollars. Five thousand is only a twentieth part of this sum."

  "You can do as you please, but you had better ask a reasonable amount ifyou expect to get it."

  "We don't want advice. We shall manage things in our own way."

  Convinced that further discussion would be unavailing, Rodney relapsedinto silence, but now his captors proceeded to unfold their plans.

  One of them procured a bottle of ink, some paper and a pen, and set themon the table.

  "Come up here, boy, and write to Mr. Pettigrew," he said in a tone ofauthority.

  "What shall I write?"

  "Tell him that you are a prisoner, and that you will not be releasedunless he pays five thousand dollars."

  "I don't want to write that. It will be the same as asking him to pay itfor me."

  "That is what we mean him to understand."

  "I won't write it."

  Rodney knew his danger, but he looked resolutely into the eyes of themen who held his life in their hands. His voice did not waver, for hewas a manly and courageous boy.

  "The boy's got grit!" said one of the men to the other.

  "Yes, but it won't save him. Boy, are you going to write what I toldyou?"

  "No."

  "Are you not afraid that we will kill you?"

  "You have power to do it."

  "Don't you want to live?"

  "Yes. Life is sweet to a boy of sixteen."

  "Then why don't you write?"

  "Because I think it would be taking a mean advantage of Mr. Pettigrew."

  "You are a fool. Roderick, what shall we do with him?"

  "Tell him simply to write that he is in our hands."

  "Well thought of. Boy, will you do that?"

  "Yes."

  Rodney gave his consent for he was anxious that Mr. Pettigrew shouldknow what had prevented him from coming home when he was expected.

  "Very well, write! You will know what to say."

  Rodney drew the paper to him, and wrote as follows:

  DEAR MR. PETTIGREW,

  On my way home I was stopped by two men who have confined me in a cave,and won't let me go unless a sum of money is paid for my ransom. I don'tknow what to do. You will know better than I. RODNEY ROPES.

  His chief captor took the note and read it aloud.

  "That will do," he said. "Now he will believe us when we say that youare in our hands."

  He signed to Rodney to rise from the table and took his place. Drawing apile of paper to him, he penned the following note:

  Rodney Ropes is in our hands. He wants his liberty and we want money.Send us five thousand dollars, or arrange a meeting at which it can bedelivered to us, and he shall go free. Otherwise his death be on yourhands. HIS CAPTORS.

  Rodney noticed that this missive was written in a handsome businesshand.

  "You write a handsome hand," he said.

  "I ought to," was the reply. "I was once bookkeeper in a large businesshouse."

  "And what--" here Rodney hesitated.

  "What made me an outlaw you mean to ask?"

  "Yes."

  "My nature, I suppose. I wasn't cut out for sober, humdrum life."

  "Don't you think you would have been happier?"

  "No preaching, kid! I had enough of that when I used to go to church inmy old home in Missouri. Here, Caesar!"

  "Yes, massa."

  "You know Oreville?"

  "Yes, massa."

  "Go over there and take this letter with you. Ask for JeffersonPettigrew, and mind you don't tell him where we live. Only if he asksabout me and my pal say we are desperate men, have each killed a rounddozen of fellows that stood in our way and will stick at nothing."

  "All right, massa," said Caesar with an appreciative grin. "How shall Igo, massa?"

  "You can take the kid's horse. Ride to within a mile of Oreville, thentether the horse where he won't easily be found, and walk over to themines. Do you understand?"

  "Yes, massa."

  "He won't probably give you any money, but he may give you a letter.Bring it safely to me."

  Caesar nodded and vanished.

  For an hour the two men smoked their pipes and chatted. Then they rose,and the elder said: "We are going out, kid, for a couple of hours. Areyou afraid to stay alone?"

  "Why should I be?"

  "That's the way to talk. I won't caution you not to escape, for it wouldtake a smarter lad then you to do it. If you are tired you can lie downon the bed and rest."

  "All right!"

  "I am sorry we haven't got the morning paper for you to look over," saidhis captor with a smile. "The carrier didn't leave it this morning."

  "I can get along without it. I don't feel much like reading."

  "You needn't feel worried. You'll be out of this tomorrow if JeffersonPettigrew is as much your friend as you think he is."

  "The only thing that troubles me is the big price you charge at yourhotel."

  "Good! The kid has a good wit of his own. After all, we wouldn'tmind keeping you with us. It might pay you better than working forPettigrew."

  "I hope you'll excuse my saying it, but I don't like the business."

  "You may change your mind. At your age we wouldn't either of us like thesort of life we are
leading. Come, John."

  The two men went out but did not allow Rodney to accompany them to theplace of exit.

  Left to himself, Rodney could think soberly of his plight. He could notforesee whether his captivity would be brief or prolonged.

  After a time the spirit of curiosity seized him. He felt temptedto explore the cavern in which he was confined. He took a lamp, andfollowed in a direction opposite to that taken by his captors.

  The cave he found was divided into several irregularly shaped chambers.He walked slowly, holding up the lamp to examine the walls of thecavern. In one passage he stopped short, for something attracted hisattention--something the sight of which made his heart beat quicker andfilled him with excitement.

 

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