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loud. He had to respond. He needed info. But he waited a moment to be sure the camp remained still.
    Sitting up, Cole put his mouth near one of the cracks in the plank floor of the cage. “I came through to this place on my own. I’m here to bust you out. Are the cages locked?”
    “Yes,” Dalton whispered through the same crack. “Ham has the key. The guy who first greeted us in the basement.”
    “I remember him,” Cole said. Ham had gone into one of the coaches. “I saw where he went to sleep. I’ll try to steal the key.”
    “Are you nuts?” Dalton asked.
    “Not so loud,” Cole urged.
    “They’ll catch you, too. You should run for it.”
    “No,” another voice chimed in. “Get us out.”
    “Shut it,” a third voice whispered urgently.
    The boys above fell silent. Cole heard footsteps approaching. His body went rigid. He tried to breathe silently. Boots and legs became visible.
    “What’s all the commotion?” the redhead inquired in a rough whisper.
    “Nothing,” one of the boys answered.
    “They were trying to take my coat,” Dalton improvised quietly.
    “Keep it down or I’ll confiscate it,” the redhead threatened. “It’s time to sleep.”
    “Just wait until my dad catches up,” one of the boys said. “He’s a cop.”
    The redhead gave a weary chuckle. “There is no way from there to here. Your parents won’t even remember you. No more noise. I don’t want to come over here again.”
    “Sorry,” Dalton said.
    “Don’t apologize,” the redhead said. “Just stop talking.”
    “Excuse me,” a girl called softly from a neighboring wagon.
    “That goes for all of you,” the redhead snapped, barely maintaining his whisper.
    “I just thought you might want to know about the boy hiding under the wagon,” the girl replied.
    Cole felt like he had suddenly been immersed in ice water.
    The boots shuffled. “What?”
    “Ansel told us we would be punished for not telling what we know,” the girl said. “A boy under that wagon is planning an escape.”
    The redhead crouched and met eyes with Cole. “Well, who have we here?”
    Cole tried to force words from his throat. It took a second. “Me? I’m a free citizen looking for work.”
    “Free, you say?” The man chuckled. “I can see your wrist, lad. Free for the moment perhaps. Not for long.”

C HAPTER
4
BONDMARK
    C ole knew he had to get away, but for a moment the shock of discovery held him paralyzed. His only chance was to run. They were on an empty prairie at night. If he went far enough, fast enough, maybe the kidnappers would lose him.
    When the crouching redhead reached under the wagon, Cole rolled the opposite way. Springing to his feet, he took off, passing other wagons and jumping a sleeping figure bundled in a worn blanket.
    “Intruder!” went up the alarm from the redhead. “On your feet! Intruder! Don’t let him get away!”
    The shouted words fed Cole’s panic. Men all around the encampment cast aside their covers and scrambled to their feet. Racing toward the open prairie, Cole saw two men running parallel to him and a little ahead, gradually converging. Both were faster than him. If he kept going straight, they would have him, so he abruptly doubled back, hoping to streak through the camp and shake them in the confusion.
    The change in direction only revealed the redhead coming at him from behind, along with several others. Lacking better options, Cole swerved toward the nearest wagon, grabbed the bars, and climbed on top. The fingers of the redhead brushed his heel but failed to grab him.
    Crouched atop the wooden roof of the wagon, Cole couldn’t see his pursuers, but he could hear them coming from all directions. Cole had never been the fastest runner, but he was a confident climber. Heights had never bothered him. There was another wagon parked not too far away. With a running start, he jumped to the next roof, barely clearing the gap.
    “He’s moving!” shouted a gruff voice.
    Cole ran across