taken. And
Jackson was right, the eldest Rover thought he was a long way from camp
when he was placed on shore again.

His feet were now unloosed and he was made to march forward until the
vicinity of the hermit's den was reached. Then he was carried into the
den and tied fast to a log erected near one of the side walls.

"Take the sack from his head," came in the voice of Lew Flapp, and this
was done and then the towel was also removed.

For the moment Dick could see nothing, for the glare of a large lantern
was directly in his face. Then he made out half a dozen or more cadets
standing around him, each with a red mask over his face, and a red
skull cap with horns.

"Hullo, this must be a new secret society," he thought. "I've been
initiated into the Order of Black Skulls, but never into the Order of
Red Skulls. Wonder what they will want me to do?" There was a moment
of silence and one of the masked cadets stepped to the front.

"Prisoner, are you prepared to meet your doom?" was the question put in
a harsh voice.

"Oh, chestnuts!" cried Dick. "I went through that long ago, when I
first came to Putnam Hall."

"Bow to your superiors," said another voice.

"Where are the superiors?" asked Dick innocently. "I don't see 'em."

"The prisoner is impertinent! Make him bow!"

At once several sprang behind Dick and forced him to move his head up
and down.

"Let up, my head isn't on a hinge!" he cried. "Cut it short, for I'm
sleepy."

"Make him drink the poison and at once!" put in another of the masked
cadets.

The speaker tried to disguise his tones, but the voice sounded much
like that of Lew Flapp and instantly Dick was on the alert.

"How much do you want me to drink?" he asked cheerfully.

"Only one glass, if you drink it without stopping to sneeze," put in
another voice, and now Dick was certain that he recognized Rockley.

"These are no friends," he thought. "They are enemies and they intend
to play me foul."

"How can I drink with my hands tied behind me?" he asked.

"We will hold the glass for you," said another, and Dick felt almost
sure it was Gus Pender who uttered the words.

"It's the whole Flapp crowd," he mused. "I'm in a pickle and no
mistake. I suppose they'll half kill me before they let me go."

"Will you drink?" asked another. He was small in size and Dick put him
down as being Ben Hurdy.

"I want you to untie my hands."

"Very well, let the prisoner hold the glass," said Flapp