The young fireman stood surrounded by the three men, trying to clear his half-blinded eyes. He was seized and hustled about, thrown into a chair, and regained his wonted composure to find Gasper Farrington confronting him with an angry face.
"So, it's you, is it—you, again?" spoke the latter, gazing at Ralph with a glance full of ill will."
"Yes," responded the youth. "I can't deny it very well, can I?"
"How do you come to be up in that attic? How long have you been there? What are you up to, anyway?" shouted the excited Farrington.
"Don't ask me any questions for I shall not answer them," retorted Ralph nervily. "Here I am. Make the best of it."
"See here," said Bartlett, a deep frown on his face. "This looks bad for us. Morris, watch that young fellow a minute or two."
He and Farrington went into the next room. There was a low-toned consultation. When they came back the lawyer carried a piece of rope in his hand. It was useless for Ralph to resist, and the three men soon had him securely bound. He was carried into a small adjoining room, thrown on a rude mattress and locked in.
For nearly half-an-hour he could hear the
