Part 63 (2/2)
”Because I think it would be taking a mean advantage of Mr. Pettigrew.”
”You are a fool. Roderick, what shall we do with him?”
”Tell him simply to write that he is in our hands.”
”Well thought of. Boy, will you do that?”
”Yes.”
Rodney gave his consent for he was anxious that Mr. Pettigrew should know what had prevented him from coming home when he was expected.
”Very well, write! You will know what to say.”
Rodney drew the paper to him, and wrote as follows:
DEAR MR. PETTIGREW,
On my way home I was stopped by two men who have confined me in a cave, and won't let me go unless a sum of money is paid for my ransom. I don't know what to do. You will know better than I. RODNEY ROPES.
His chief captor took the note and read it aloud.
”That will do,” he said. ”Now he will believe us when we say that you are in our hands.”
He signed to Rodney to rise from the table and took his place. Drawing a pile of paper to him, he penned the following note:
Rodney Ropes is in our hands. He wants his liberty and we want money.
Send us five thousand dollars, or arrange a meeting at which it can be delivered to us, and he shall go free. Otherwise his death be on your hands. HIS CAPTORS.
Rodney noticed that this missive was written in a handsome business hand.
”You write a handsome hand,” he said.
”I ought to,” was the reply. ”I was once bookkeeper in a large business house.”
”And what--” here Rodney hesitated.
”What made me an outlaw you mean to ask?”
”Yes.”
”My nature, I suppose. I wasn't cut out for sober, humdrum life.”
”Don't you think you would have been happier?”
”No preaching, kid! I had enough of that when I used to go to church in my old home in Missouri. Here, Caesar!”
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