“Oh, I wouldn’t be afraid,” was the sneering comment of Murker. “I guess we could persuade ’em to be good,” and he leered at his companions. “Four are too many to handle,” decided Professor Skeel. “I want Tom Fairfield alone.” “And I’ll get him for you,” promised Murker. “But you’ve got to give me a share of the ransom money.” “Oh, I’ll do that,” readily agreed the former teacher. “I’m doing this as much to square accounts with him as for anything else.” “Well, I’m not working for love--or revenge,” chuckled Murker. “I want the cold cash.” “So do I,” chimed in Whalen, “but I want revenge, too. It’s going to be a regular kidnapping, isn’t it?” and he looked at Professor Skeel. “It will be if he can carry it out,” was the answer, with a nod at Murker. “Oh, I’ll do my part,” was the assurance given. “But won’t it be risky--dangerous?” asked Whalen. “I don’t want to get in trouble,” and he looked rather anxiously about him, as though already he feared officers of the law might be after him. “There’s no more risk for you than for us,” spoke Professor Skeel. “There won’t be any risk--not up in this lonesome place,” Murker said. “But how are you going to make sure of getting Tom into our hands alone?” asked the rascally professor. “Leave that to me,” was the chuckling answer. “I used to live in this region when I was a young fellow. Folks have forgotten me, but I haven’t forgotten them.” “I say!” exclaimed Professor Skeel, “I hope you’re not going to bring any more into this. The more there are the more risk there is, and the money I expect to get from Mr. Fairfield, for giving Tom back to him, won’t go so far if we have to split it up----” “Oh, don’t worry! No one else but us three will be in it. I should have said I hadn’t forgotten the country up around here--not so much the people. I don’t care anything about them. But I know every cross-road and bridle-path through the woods, and it will be funny if I can’t get this lad where I want him. They’re strangers up here, and they have to depend on signposts, and what that guide tells them.” “But they are smart fellows,” said Professor Skeel. “I know, for I taught them in school. If they have a signboard to go by, it will be as good to them as a printed book would be to most people.” “That may all be very true,” chuckled Murker. “But tell me this. A wrong signboard isn’t much use to anyone, is it? Not even to a smart lad.” “A wrong signboard? What do you mean?” asked the professor. “I mean just what I said--‘a wrong signboard’--one that gives the wrong direction. It’s worse than none at all, isn’t it?” “Well, I should say it was,” was the slow answer of the former teacher. “But are you going to get Tom Fairfield----” “Now, don’t ask too many questions,” was the advice of his evil-faced crony. “When you don’t know a thing, you can say so with a clear conscience in case the detectives get asking too many personal questions of you.”