"We have take ladder away, but you can drop. Not far."

Then, seeing a look of alarm flit across the boy's face, the fellow
laughed, adding:

"No hurt. All right. See?"

He dropped a stone through the trapway. It fell on ground underneath,
nor did the distance down appear to be more than a few feet.

"Cellar, that's all," grinned the Italian, reassuringly. "Now, drop,
and we not hurt you. No danger. In two, three, four hour we put down
ladder and let you up. Keep you here little while; that's all."

Of course Jack Benson could have tried to put up a fight, but he knew he
would easily be beaten. Besides, these men, smiling and polite as they
now appeared, might have tempers bad enough to lead them to resort to
Italian steel, if they had to do it. Therefore Jack nodded, then knelt
at the trapway, and next, with an inward prayer, let himself drop down
into the darkness. He landed on damp, soft earth.

"Good boy!" called one of the Italians, the lantern lighting his smiling
face as it appeared framed by the trapway for an instant. "Not so very
long to wait. Let you out so you go home, bimeby."

Then the trapdoor was gently put tack in place, after which Jack heard
the click of a padlock above to secure the barrier in place.

Young Benson got upon his feet, stretched to make sure he was unhurt,