Then he heard the rich youth thrown into the stone cell next to the storeroom and left to his fate.
It was nipping cold, and, even with the window tightly closed and nailed over with slats, Sam could not endure it to remain on the bench long.

Leaping up he began to stamp his feet and slap his arms across his chest to get them warm.

Soon he heard Tubbs doing the same thing.
"I guess he's worse off than I am," thought the youngest Rover.

"That stone cell hasn't any bench in it any more, and it must be twice as cold and damp as this room.

It's a shame to put anyone there in this freezing weather.