SKEEL REVEALS HIMSELF “Shall we loosen him up now?” asked the voice of one of the men. Tom could still see nothing, as the bag remained over his head. “Yes, take off the headgear, and ungag him,” answered Skeel. “It won’t matter if he does holler up here. No one will hear him. But keep his hands tied, except when we feed him.” Tom felt a sudden sense of elation in spite of his most uncomfortable position. At least he was going to get something to eat, and he needed it, for he felt nearly famished. “Is the door locked?” asked one of the men. “I attended to that,” was Skeel’s answer. “He can’t get away from here.” “We’ll see about that,” mused Tom. “I’ll have a good try, at any rate, the first chance I get.” He felt the fastenings of the bag being loosed, and when it was taken off, he looked about him quickly. The first glance was enough to tell him, if he had not already been sure of it, that he was in some shack where he had never been before. This was not the deserted cabin where he and his chums had spent the night. Tom glanced toward the windows, hoping to get a glimpse outside so he might determine his position, but there were dirty curtains over the casements. His next glances were directed toward the men themselves, though he was already sure, in his own mind, who they were. Nor was his judgment reversed. There stood Skeel, a grin of triumph in his ugly face, and there were the two other men, of evil countenance, whom Tom had seen with the erstwhile professor. “We’re going to take the gag out of your mouth,” said Skeel to his prisoner. “We don’t want to hurt you any more than we have to, but we’re going to have you do as we say, and not as you want to. You can yell, if you like, but you’ll only be wasting your breath. This is a good way from nowhere, up here, and you won’t be heard. You can’t get away, because one of us will be on guard all the while. I tell you this to save you trouble, for I know you, and I know that you’ll make a row if you possibly can,” and Skeel stuck out his jaw pugnaciously. He and Tom Fairfield had been in more than one “row” before. “Take it off, Murker,” the former instructor said to the worse-looking of his two helpers. “Let’s see if he’ll yelp now.” It was a relief to Tom to have the bunch of not overly-clean rags taken from his mouth. His tongue and jaws ached from the pressure and now he sighed in relief. Tom Fairfield was not foolish. He had already made up his mind to do all he could to circumvent the plans of the plotters, and he was going to begin as soon as possible. He did not altogether believe Skeel when the latter said that shouting would do no good, but Tom did not intend to try, at once, that method of getting help.