"Poor fishing pole!" murmured the boy. "Now Peter can't fish any more!"

"Is that your name--Peter?" asked Tom. He saw that the boy was not just right in his mind.

"Yes."

"Peter what?"

"No, no! Peter Poll--pretty Peter Poll, who will be rich some day--if he does not tell all he knows," said the boy, repeating the words in parrot-like fashion.

"Do you live at Red Rock ranch?" asked Songbird.

The boy bobbed his head up and down vigorously.

"With Mr. Sack Todd?"

Again the boy nodded.

"What do you do there?"

"Wash dishes and cook. But Peter will be rich some day--if he doesn't tell all he knows," went on the boy. Then, of a sudden, he flapped his two arms and crowed like a rooster.

"He is a dolt!" whispered Songbird to Tom, and the latter nodded.

"The poor fishing pole--it will be drowned," went on the dolt.

"Never mind, I'll pay you for it, Peter," said Tom, and drew a silver coin from his pocket. "So you live with Mr. Todd. How do you like it?"

"Peter must not tell all he knows."

"Does he treat you kindly?"

"Peter gets sugar sometimes--and he is to have a pipe and tobacco soon."

"Did you see anything of two strangers last night?" continued Tom in a sterner tone. "Two boys about my own age?"

"Peter must not tell--"

"You answer me, or it will be the worse for you!" and now Tom caught the simple-minded youth by the collar. He did not intend to harm the lad, but he wanted to make him speak.

"Oh, oh! let me go!" screamed the dolt. "Let me go for a hundred-dollar bill! A brand new one!"

"A what?" asked Songbird curiously.

"Peter must not tell all--"

"You answer my question," broke in Tom, facing the boy and searching his eyes. "Did you see those two boys last night or not?"

"Peter must not--"

"Answer!" and now Tom had the lad by the ear.

"Yes--yes--I saw them."

"Did anybody else see them?"

"Peter must not--"

"Peter, do you want to be drowned in the river?"

"No, no!"

"Then tell me all you know about the boys."

"Sack Todd will kill me! Peter must not tell--"

"Did Sack Todd see the boys?"

"Yes; he caught them--he and Andy Jimson--at the window! Peter must not tell--"

"Caught!" gasped Tom. "Were they made prisoners?"

The boy nodded, and then crowed like a rooster once more.

"Where were the prisoners put?"

"Down, down, down--in the deep hole where the water flows--down where they want to put Peter if he tells all he knows. But I shan't tell anything--not a thing!" and his eyes blazed fiercely. "Not a thing!"

"Poor d.i.c.k and Sam have been captured and are prisoners in some vile place," groaned Tom. "What will become of them?"

CHAPTER XX

AN OFFER FROM THE ENEMY

"This is a cheerful outlook, I must say. I wonder how long it is going to last?"

The question came from Sam, after an hour had been spent in the damp and lonely cell under Red Rock ranch.

"That is a riddle to me, Sam," answered d.i.c.k. "I don't think they will let us go in a hurry. We have learned too much."

"Do you imagine they will find Tom and the others?"

"I hope not. If they do, we'll be in a pickle, for I guess it will be Tom and the others who will have to get us out of this hole."

"I wish we had a light."

"I am afraid it would do us small good. This seems to have been built for a regular prison, and I suppose the only way out is through the door, and that is securely fastened."