“Well, Caesar, is dinner ready?” asked one of the men.

“No, massa, not yet.”

“Let it be ready then as soon as possible.  But first lead the way.  We are coming in.”

He started ahead, leading the horse, for the entrance was high enough to admit the passage of the animal.

“Push on!” said the other, signing to Rodney to precede him.

Rodney did so, knowing remonstrance to be useless.  His curiosity was excited.  He wondered how long the passage was and whither it led.

The way was dark, but here and there in niches was a kerosene lamp that faintly relieved the otherwise intense blackness.

“I have read about such places,” thought Rodney, “but I never expected to get into one.  The wonder is, that they should bring me here.  I can’t understand their object.”

Rodney followed his guide for perhaps two hundred and fifty feet when they emerged into a large chamber of irregular shape, lighted by four large lamps set on a square wooden table.  There were two rude cots in one corner, and it was here apparently that his guides made their home.

There was a large cooking stove in one part of the room, and an appetizing odor showed that Caesar had the dinner under way.

Rodney looked about him in curiosity.  He could not decide whether the cave was natural or artificial.  Probably it was a natural cave which had been enlarged by the hand of man.

“Now hurry up the dinner, Caesar,” said one of the guides.  “We are all hungry.”

“Yes, massa,” responded the obedient black.

Rodney felt hungry also, and hoped that he would have a share of the dinner.  Later he trusted to find out the object of his new acquaintances in kidnaping him.

Dinner was soon ready.  It was simple, but Rodney thoroughly enjoyed it.

During the meal silence prevailed.  After it his new acquaintances produced pipes and began to smoke.  They offered Rodney a cigarette, but he declined it.

“I don’t smoke,” he said.

“Are you a Sunday school kid?” asked one in a sneering tone.

“Well, perhaps so.”

“How long have you lived at Oreville?”

“About four months.”

“Who is the head of the settlement there?”

“Jefferson Pettigrew.”

“He is the moneyed man, is he?”

“Yes.”

“Is he a friend of yours?”

“He is my best friend,” answered Rodney warmly.

“He thinks a good deal of you, then?”

“I think he does.”

“Where have you been—­on a journey?”

“Yes, to the town of Babcock.”

“Did he send you?”

“Yes.”

“What interest has he there?”

“He is chief owner of a mine there.”

“Humph!  I suppose you would like to know why we brought you here.”

“I would very much.”

“We propose to hold you for ransom.”