Captain Villaire and his men, as well as myself, are in this
affair to make money. The question is, what is your liberty worth
to you?"
"So you intend to work such a game?" demanded Dick.
"That's the game, yes."
"Well, I shan't pay you a cent."
"Don't be a fool, Dick Rover. We are not to be trifled with."
"Well, I haven't any money, and that ends it. You already have
all I had."
"Then you will have to foot the bill," continued Dan Baxter,
turning to Randolph Rover.
"If you value your liberty you will pay us what we demand."
"And what do you demand?" questioned Mr. Rover.
"We demand twenty thousand dollars -- ten thousand for the liberty
of each."
This demand nearly took away Randolph Rover's breath.
"Twenty thousand dollars!" he gasped. "It is -- is preposterous!"
"Is it? You are worth a good deal more than that, Mr. Rover. And
I am demanding only what is fair."
"You shall never get the money."
"Won't we?"
"Never!"
"Perhaps you'll sing a different tune in a few, days -- after your
stomachs get empty," responded Dan Baxter, with a malicious gleam
in his fishy eyes. "So you mean to starve us into acceding to your
demands," said Dick. "Baxter, I always did put you down as a
first-class rascal. If you keep, on, you'll be more of a one than
your father."
In high rage the former bully of Putnam Hall strode forward and
without warning struck the defenseless Dick a heavy blow on the
cheek.
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