Although thus attacked from behind and taken by surprise, Frank made a desperate fight. He realized he had been set upon by several assailants, and they were trying to beat him into nonresistance. For a time the blanket protected him from the force of their blows, but it smothered him, and he grew weaker and weaker. He did not give up, however, as long as he had the least strength left to resist. At last he was beaten into a state of helplessness, and then, still enfolded by the smothering blanket, he was hurriedly lifted and carried away by strong hands. When Merry came to himself he found himself in a small room that was poorly lighted by a single kerosene lamp. Five men were in that room, all wearing masks that completely hid their faces. In a stove a fire was burning, while on the stove sat a big pan, which contained some substance that gave out a peculiar odor. The odor that came to Merry’s nostrils was that of tar. The men seemed waiting for him to recover. “He’s comin’ round,” said one. Another of the masked gang uttered an exclamation of satisfaction. “I’m glad the critter ain’t hurt much,” he said, in a voice which Frank instantly recognized. “I didn’t want ter crack his head, fer that ’ud spoil ther fun we’re goin’ ter have with him.” “He won’t make much spread on the stage for a long time after we get through with him,” said the first speaker. “Not onless he does so as a curiosity,” chuckled the other, hoarsely. Then this one stepped up to Merry and kicked him in the ribs. “Come, my pritty dude actor,” he said, roughly. “We’re goin’ ter give ye a new suit o’ clothes.” At this the other masked ruffians laughed. “Thank you, Sam Hooker,” said Frank, quite coolly. “You are becoming exceedingly generous.” “Who ye callin’ Sam Hooker?” “You.” “Waal, yer needn’t.” “That is your name. You can’t fool me, even if your face is hidden. I know you. I know your voice.” “Waal, what ther blazes do I care!” cried the man, stripping the mask from his face and casting it aside. “I want yer ter know me! I want yer ter know I’m gittin’ even with yer. I am Sam Hooker.” “You would look better if you kept on the mask,” said Merry. “Anything to hide that villainous face of yours.” “Drat ye! Do you dast talk ter me like that now!” Again Hooker kicked Merry in the ribs. “It’s a good time for you to do that!” exclaimed Frank, scornfully. “You wouldn’t dare if my hands were free! You are a coward—a miserable coward!” “Hold yer tongue!” “Oh, you can’t keep that still, unless you gag me.” “Can’t? Waal, you may git another rap on ther head that’ll keep it still!” “It is a wonder to me that a ruffian of your stamp has hesitated at murder. Go ahead with your dirty work!” “Oh, we ain’t goin’ ter kill ye! Not much! We’ve got somethin’ better fer ye! We’ve got somethin’ you’ll like—I don’t think!” “That’s right,” laughed one of the others. “It’ll keep ye good an’ warm, an’ you’ll be a pretty picture.”