Evidently the feeling among the conspirators was not as friendly as it might have been. It was very like a dissention, and Tom wondered if the truth of the old adage was to be proved, “When thieves fall out, honest men get their dues.” “I hope it proves so in my case,” Tom reflected. “But first I would like something to eat. And I wish the others had some, too. I wonder where they are now, and what they think of me?” Professor Skeel went into another room, and closed the door after him. Murker also went into another apartment--there seemed to be three rooms, at least, on the first floor of the cabin--and presently the evil-faced man came back with a platter on which were some chunks of cold meat and bread. It looked better to Tom, half famished as he was, than a banquet would have seemed--even a surreptitious midnight school-feed. “Help yourself,” growled Murker, as he set the platter down in front of Tom, on a rough table, and loosed the bonds of our hero’s arms. “Guess I’ll have a bit myself,” murmured Whalen. “Go on,” mumbled Murker, his mouth half full. “The boss will eat later, I reckon.” Tom reflected that by the “boss” they must mean Skeel. As for the young hunter, he eagerly took some of the bread and meat. It was cold, but it was good and nourishing, and seemed to have been well cooked. It put new life into Tom at once. He would have liked a cup of coffee, but there seemed to be none. Perhaps the men would make some later. Tom certainly hoped that they would do so. The men ate fast--almost ravenously, and Tom was not at all slow himself. He did not realize what an appetite he had until he saw the victuals disappearing. Then, when the edge of his hunger had been a little dulled and blunted, to say the least, Tom once more began wondering why he had been caught and brought as a prisoner to the lonely hut. “What’s the game?” he asked himself. He was soon to know. “Well, if you fellows have had enough, and he’s been fed, tie up his hands again,” said Skeel, coming from the room just then. “I want to have a talk with him. You can wait outside,” he added, when the ropes had once more been put on Tom’s hands and arms. Skeel waited until the men had left the hut. Then, locking the door after them, the former teacher confronted Tom. Up to now our hero had said nothing. He believed in a policy of silence for the time being. “Well, what do you think of yourself now?” sneered Skeel, folding his arms. “You’re not so smart as you thought you were, are you?” “I haven’t begun to think yet,” said Tom, coolly. “But I would like to know why you have brought me here--by what right?”