CHAPTER XX
IN THE CASTLE
Stunned and bruised by their unexpected fall into the gully and manhandled by their captors, Tom Swift and Ned Newton were in a bit of a daze as they were roughly pulled along. The men—there were at least four of them now, as two were on each side of the prisoners—walked their captives down the gulch in the middle of which ran a stream of water, swollen by the heavy rain.
One of the four bandits—Tom and Ned mentally called them this—had a flashlight which he used to pick out the path when the gleams of lightning failed, as they did every so often.
"Well, we got 'em both!" chuckled one of the men.
"And without firing a shot!" added another. "It was easy!"
"A slick bit of work," put in a third gruff voice. "If——"
"No names now!" warned the fourth bandit.
By this time, their spent breath having come back and the cool rain on their heads having revived them, Tom and Ned were able to realize their desperate plight, and that it was desperate they had little reason to doubt.
Each of them was in the firm grasp of two evil men who, it was evident, would not hesitate to shoot if need be. But Tom Swift was not one to endure mistreatment silently. As he walked along he turned to one of his captors and demanded:
"What does this mean? Who are you, anyhow, and by what right are you taking us away?"
"Keep your shirt on, buddy," responded the man in what, doubtless, he meant to be a friendly and conciliatory tone. "You'll soon find out where you're going."
"And why!" added another, with a chuckle.
"Look here!" burst out Ned. "Maybe you don't know who we are!"
"Oh, we know all right, buddy," said the man who had first spoken to Tom. "It's because you are who you are that we got you."
"Orders from headquarters," said one who had not yet spoken.
"Shut up!" some one snarled at him.
The storm, after that outburst in which so many things had happened, now appeared to be subsiding. The thunder was not so loud nor the lightning so glaring and frequent. The rain, too, had slackened.
"We have a right to know where you are taking us!" fiercely exclaimed Tom. "If you don't tell us you'll have a fight right here and now!"
He was prepared to try a sudden pull away from the men that held him, knowing it would be but a desperate chance, though willing to take it. But the man on his right warned him:
"Don't try any rough stuff, buddy. We'll treat you decent as far as we can, but we got orders to bring you in and we're going to do it. If you come along peaceable you won't be hurt."
"Then tell me where we are being taken!" demanded Tom.
"To the castle, if that means anything to you," replied the man who had warned against violence.
They were soon led out of the gully and found themselves on a road, bordered on each side with trees and bushes. It was evidently the main highway leading up Dismal Mountain—the same road on which they had been traveling in the House on Wheels. But what part of it they were on, they did not know.
"It ought to be somewhere around here," muttered one of the men, looking up and down the road.
"There it is—down by the bend," said another.
Tom and Ned had a glimpse of a dark shape looming over the tops of bushes and, for a moment, hoped it was their own car they had been forced to flee from. But when they got up to it they saw it was an ordinary auto.
"Get in!" ordered one of the men, and Tom and his chum, feeling this was no time to fight, did as they were told. The auto, a big touring car, held the two prisoners and two guards in the tonneau. The other two guards mounted to the front seat and they were soon traveling on in the darkness. The storm was now almost over, though the trees and bushes still dripped water. What the hour was the two prisoners could only guess, but it must have been long past midnight.
On up the dark and muddy road the big touring car was guided. It was so gloomy that, aside from the fact that there were trees and bushes on each side of the highway, Tom and Ned could see nothing.
"How you feeling, Tom?" asked Ned, easing himself in the seat.
"Pretty rotten!"
"So do I! But I'm glad we had that ham omelet."
"So am I!" laughed the young inventor. "But I'd like some dry clothes," he added.
"Same here."
Their captors did not seem to object to their talk, for there was no command to be silent. Nor, it was evident, did they fear any alarm being given or pursuit undertaken, since no precautions were taken. Tom and Ned guessed that the rascals knew they were pretty safe from disturbance while on Dismal Mountain.
How far they were driven, the two prisoners did not know. But about half an hour after they had gotten into the auto it began to slow up and the reason was evident. They had come to where a private drive led off from the main highway. It was a drive leading between two great stone posts which, in their day, must have supported immense iron gates. But the gates had long since rusted away or been carried away.
"Is this the entrance to the castle?" asked Tom of the man who had called him "buddy" several times, though perhaps more out of habit than affection.
"This is the shack," was the answer. "You'll get out in a few minutes."
The drive of the old mansion, which had come to be called a "castle," was long and winding. But at length it came to an end in a big arc and at the upper curve stood the old pile of masonry which had started out to be a wonderful home, only it fell by the wayside.
No sooner had the car come to a stop on the drive, which was overgrown with weeds, than a door, in what was evidently an entrance hall, opened. A man, whom neither Ned nor Tom recognized, stood framed in the light.
"Did you get 'em?" asked this man.
"Sure thing!" answered "Buddy," as Tom and Ned designated the more friendly of their guards. "Is their machine here?"
"Rolled in just before you pulled up. Guess it isn't so easy to drive," remarked the man in the doorway.
"I hope they haven't damaged my House," murmured Tom, and Ned joined him in this wish.
However, just then there was no way of knowing what had happened to the big car. It was not in sight. In one or two lower windows of the old half ruined castle lights showed. All the upper windows were in darkness.
"Get down, you two!" gruffly ordered one of the guards.
Tom and Ned, stiff from the wetting they had undergone and sore and bruised from their fall, alighted.
"Go on in," was the next command, and they thought it best to obey. A night's rest, some more food, and a chance to consider their situation was needed before they could make a break for liberty.
The two captives found themselves in what had once been a stately reception hall, but which was now in almost the same state of ruin and decay as was the old mansion where the young men had first lost their House on Wheels. However, they had little chance for observation, as they were fairly rushed out through a rear door, along a dimly lighted passage, and thrust into a dark room. The door was pulled shut and locked after them.
"Look here!" cried Tom angrily. "This is a rotten way to treat even a dog, and we haven't done anything to you fellows! We want something hot to drink and some dry clothes."
"Keep your shirt on, buddy," advised the man on the other side of the door. "You'll be treated decent—anyhow for a while. I'll see you get some dry things in a short time."
He was as good as his word, coming back in about fifteen minutes with a pile of old but dry and serviceable garments. At the same time he brought a tray of sandwiches and a pot of hot tea. This last was most refreshing, and Tom and Ned ate and drank gratefully, once they had taken off their wet clothes and put on the dry ones.
By the light of a lantern their guard carried they saw that they were prisoners in a fairly large stone room containing one window with iron bars across it. Upon what this window looked they had no means of guessing in the darkness outside it.
"Where are we going to sleep?" asked Ned of the man who brought the food and clothes.
"What's the matter with those bunks?" the man asked, with a chuckle.
He held his lantern in a dark corner and there, where the prisoners had not before noticed them, were two cots with pillows and blankets on them. "Turn in there," was the suggestion, "They're as comfortable as those in that traveling house of yours, I reckon."
"Where is my House?" demanded Tom angrily.
"Ask me no questions and I'll tell you no lies!" replied the man, though not unkindly. "Better take it easy now."
With their bodily needs taken care of, Tom and Ned were free to wonder and speculate on what had happened, what it all meant and what the future held.
"But it's all pretty much guess work," said Ned, when they were talking it over.
"That's right," agreed Tom. "However, let's get some rest."
The bunks were comfortable, and in spite of their worry and anxiety they soon fell asleep.
The sun was shining in their barred window when they awoke. They had no sooner opened their eyes than the door was unlocked and a strange man came in with a tray of breakfast. The coffee smelled most appetizing.
During the night Tom had had an idea. He determined to try to find out something he much wanted to know. So, when the guard had set the tray down and was going out, Tom suddenly shot at him:
"Tell Basil Cunningham I want to see him at once!"
"Wha—what's that?" stammered the guard, obviously taken by surprise.
"I said tell Basil Cunningham I want to see him at once!" snapped out Tom.
The man appeared positively terror-stricken and hurried out of the stone room.