“I am between two fires,” thought Don, almost ready to laugh in spite of his fear of detection, “and for once in my life I have overreached myself. I am sure to be found out, no matter whether I run away or stay here, and then what will Clarence think of himself? Could he ever face father again, after entering into a conspiracy to rob him of eighty thousand dollars? I’d like to spare his feelings if I can. Perhaps if I keep on digging, and act as though I didn’t see or hear them, they will become frightened and go away.” This was Don’s only hope now, but it did not last long, for it was hardly formed in his mind before Clarence marched up and seized him by the arm. Don was highly amused by the conversation the two engaged in when they came close to him; and when Clarence lighted a match and surveyed him by the light it threw out, he would have spoken, had his cousin made the least sign of recognition. But Clarence could see no resemblance between those black features and Don’s handsome face; and besides Godfrey was so positive that they had captured old Jordan himself, that he never had a suspicion of the truth. Don played the part of ghost as long as he could, and spoke only when he found that he must, or feel the weight of Godfrey’s shovel in his ribs. As he could see no way out of the difficulty in which he was placed, he trusted entirely to luck, hoping that Clarence would let him go without compelling him to tell who he was. He heard all that passed between the two, and was not a little amazed to learn that he was to be confined in the potato-hole, and left without anything to eat or drink, until he was ready to tell where the barrel was hidden. He pondered the matter deeply while he was being led across the field and down the road toward Godfrey’s cabin, but did not reveal himself, because he still clung to the hope that something might turn up in his favor. He uttered a feeble protest against the treatment he was receiving, just as he believed old Jordan would have done, had he been in the same situation, but of course it did no good. While Godfrey was gone for the rope and he was alone with Clarence, he was several times on the point of speaking out, but could not without doing the very thing he most wished to avoid. While he was thinking about it, Godfrey came back, and almost before he knew it, he was confined in the cellar, and Clarence and Godfrey were out of hearing. “Here I am,” thought Don, “and if I don’t get out and reach home very shortly after Clarence does there will be a hubbub indeed. I wish I hadn’t done it. What a desperate fellow that Clarence Gordon is! If he doesn’t turn over a new leaf pretty soon, he will come to some bad end as sure as he is a living boy. What will he have to say for himself when he finds out what he has done? O, I must get away!”