particular, but it sounded familiar, a kind of clanking, metallic sound.
Then he heard a voice say, "Let me handle her, give her a shove, hold
her down, that's right."

Pee-wee's blood ran cold. They were killing someone out there; some poor
captive maiden, perhaps....

Then he heard no more.




CHAPTER VIII

A DISCOVERY


The ominous sound of doors rolling and of clanking staples and padlocks
told Pee-wee all too conclusively that he was a prisoner, and he was
seized with panic terror at the thought of being locked in a dungeon
where he could hardly see his hand before his face.

As to where he was, he had no guess more than that he was miles and
miles from home. But along with his fright came a feeling of relief that
he was no longer in company of those two scoundrels who were unwittingly
responsible for his predicament. They would probably not return before
morning and he would have at least a little breathing spell in which to
consider what he should do, if indeed he could do anything.

The departure of his captors gave him courage and some measure of hope.