After a time Ben began drinking from the bottle of liquor he had drawn from under the rug, and Steve, seeing that the fellow was drinking himself into insensibility, left the cave, first seeing that Clay was tied hand and foot and gagged with one of his own handkerchiefs.
The boy's position was an uncomfortable one. He moved restlessly about, rolling toward the entrance as if in quest of fresh air. Ben arose and stood watching him drunkenly.
"You're not so worse," the fellow cried. "If I had my way, I'd get out of this mix mighty quick. I'm a kind-hearted man, kid! The drunker I get, the kinder I am."
Clay was on the point of suggesting that he drink the remainder of the liquor in the bottle, so that he might be kind enough to untie him, but did not do so for obvious reasons.
The boy was in hopes that Ben would become too intoxicated to pay any attention to his movements, but he did not do so. Instead, he filled a cob pipe with villainous tobacco and sat down at the entrance to the cavern within a few feet of where the boy lay.
During all this time, the boy was wondering if Alex had gone back to the _Rambler_ or whether he had trailed on after the men who had attempted his capture. In the latter case, the boy was evidently not very far away. He listened intently for some indication of the boy's presence, but none came. He wondered if the boys on the _Rambler_ would make an effort to find him before night set in.
And so, gagged and bound, he spent a long, painful day. No one came to the cave, and Ben was his sole guardian. The man became talkative after a while and discussed the streets of Chicago, which he seemed to know well, but became silent whenever an incautious word regarding the present situation came to his lips.
When darkness came, Steve and two more burly ruffians made their appearance. They uncovered a box at the back of the cavern and, reaching in, drew out bread and canned fruit and vegetables. As the four sat feeding like a drove of swine, Ben observed Clay's eyes fixed hungrily on the food.
"Why don't you give the boy some of the chuck?" he asked, angrily.
"Here, kid," he added, taking the handkerchief from Clay's mouth, releasing his hands, and passing him a loaf of bread and tin of beef, "just help yourself to this table d'hôte dinner."