Clancy climbed into the driver’s seat, feeling highly satisfied with himself. He had forced a practical admission from Carson that his suspicions were correct, and he grimly made up his mind to force a good deal more from the fellow. “Where you goin’, Clan?” inquired Billy, with some anxiety. He had shoved Carson into the tonneau and followed him, still grasping his arm. “Well,” said Clancy, with a wink that Bully did not catch, “I think we’d better take him to that deserted house you pointed out, as we came into town. Then we can torture him until he confesses.” “Fine!” grinned Billy. “We’ll do some fancy branding on him, and if that don’t work, we can hang him up by the thumbs and roast his feet, eh?” Unfortunately, perhaps, he overdid the matter. Carson’s evil conscience had turned him into an arrant coward, but it had not destroyed his judgment by any means. He perceived that the two were trying to frighten him, and he relapsed into a sullen silence. “You’d better tell us where Merry is,” stated Clancy, turning to look into the heavy, surly features. “I’ll warn you, Bully, that we’re not inclined to show you any mercy.” “Go to thunder!” growled the captive, and followed it with a string of curses. Clancy flushed angrily and threw in the clutch. “All right, my friend,” he grated. “You’ll get yours!” Ten minutes later they drew up at the deserted house outside town. Clancy drove around to the side, installed the machine in the half-ruined barn, and reconnoitered the house. A door was swinging on its hinges, but the place in general was in tolerable condition. He returned to the barn and took out his handkerchief. “Put his wrists together,” he ordered. “Give him a chance to talk,” pleaded Billy. Clancy nodded. Carson, however, merely poured out a string of curses and began to plunge in a furious attempt to escape. His twisted arm soon made him quiet. “Take him up to the house,” said Clancy, when he had been bound. “I’ll get some stuff to make a fire with.” Billy obeyed. He deposited Carson in an empty room, tied his ankles securely, then returned to Clancy with an anxious face. “See here, Clan, how far are you goin’? You don’t mean to torture him?” “I should hope not,” said Clancy, with a grin. “I feel like it, but I don’t believe I’d go that far. I’m goin’ to walk back and get the _Hornet_. We’ll have something to eat, and maybe you can scare him into talking before I get back.” Clancy’s hope was vain. When he returned with the _Hornet_ and their provisions, he found that Carson had absolutely refused to say a word on the subject. Billy was not a little anxious, but Clancy stood firm. “Billy, I’m goin’ to make that fellow talk if I have to bust every law on earth. Just stop to think--he’s done something to Chip, and knows where he is. He seems to have a notion that we’re throwing a bluff into him about torture and----” “So we are,” interjected Billy. “You know it blamed well.”