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 Another Random Document on
Scribd Without Any Related Topics
 CHAPTER XXVI.
A VICTIM OF TREACHERY.

A RRIVED in Chicago, Fitzgerald put up at the Sherman House, and

of course Robert accompanied him.
Our hero was a little puzzled to understand why he had been
engaged. Little or nothing was given him to do. Once or twice he
had been employed to buy tickets, or go on small errands, but his
office seemed to be a sinecure. This would have suited many boys,
but Robert was a boy of active temperament, and felt happier to be
employed. I may remark here that, in general, nothing is worse for a
boy than to be absolutely unemployed, for it is as true as the old
proverb expresses itself, that "Satan finds some mischief still for idle
hands to do."
One day Robert ventured to remark to his employer, "I am
afraid, Mr. Fitzgerald, I am not earning my wages; I am quite ready
to do more."
"That isn't your fault, Robert," said Fitzgerald. "It is true, while
we are travelling I don't find much to do; but when we get to our
destination I shall keep you more busy."
"I am glad of that," said Robert, "for I feel better to be
employed."
"I believe I have never said anything about the object of my
journey," Fitzgerald continued.
"No, sir."
"I am employed by certain New York parties to look after land
and mining investments at the West. I shall have to visit several
places, and there will be more or less writing to do, in which I shall
employ you. By the way" (they were now in the hotel at Chicago), "I
will dictate a letter to you now."
"Very well, sir."
Robert took out writing materials and Fitzgerald dictated the
following:

"Ashley Robinson, Esq., 549 Broadway, New York:

"Dear Sir: I am not quite sure as to the tenor of my
instructions from you. Do I understand that I am empowered
to sell your land without further communication with you, or
do you wish me to apprise you of any offer I may receive? My
own impression is that you ought not to accept less than
$5000 for it, as it is sure to increase in value. Please write me
at once.
"Yours truly,
"John Fitzgerald."

"It is done," said Robert.

"You may go out and mail it. I should prefer that you would take
it to the post-office yourself, as it will go quicker than if you mailed it
in the hotel, or put it in one of the street boxes. Any one will tell you
where the post-office is."
Robert went out, well pleased to have something to do, and
mailed the letter at the city post-office, as directed.
Fitzgerald laughed to himself after the boy went out.
"The boy little suspects that that is a bogus letter, and that there
is no such person as Ashley Robinson in New York. If there is, I
haven't the honor of knowing him. It was rather a happy idea of
mine, as the boy's suspicion will not be so easily aroused if he thinks
I am engaged in a legitimate business journey. Well, well, I shall be
glad when the job is accomplished, for it isn't overmuch to my taste.
That villain Hugo might find it to his mind. It is a pity that such
fellows should succeed in feathering their nests and getting all the
good things of this life. When this work is done, I shall have a hold
upon him, and it won't be my fault if I don't make him pay
handsomely for doing his dirty work for him."
Presently Robert returned.
"Did you mail the letter?" asked his employer.
"Yes, sir."
"That is well, for it was an important one."
"You forgot to tell your correspondent where to write you," said
Robert, to whom the omission had occurred as he was returning.
Fitzgerald was for a moment embarrassed, but he was a man of
ready wit.
"Oh, he will know," he answered; "he will address me at the
town where his land is located."
This seemed a plausible explanation, and Robert said no more.
They walked to the railroad station with their valises in hand.
On the way rather a rough-looking man accosted Fitzgerald.
"Why, Fitz, old fellow, how did you drop down here?"
Fitzgerald flushed, and answered hurriedly—
"I came by cars from New York."
"I don't mean that. What's your lay, and who have you got with
you?"
"Excuse me, Brandon, I am in a hurry," Fitzgerald answered,
uncomfortably.
Brandon whistled.
"Something mysterious, eh?" he said.
"Not at all, but you must excuse me."
 It seemed peculiar to Robert, who had seen considerable of the
world, that a reputable business man should be addressed in the
terms employed by Brandon, and he looked his surprise.
"That man is an acquaintance I stumbled across in one of my
business journeys," explained Fitzgerald when they passed on, "and
he assumed undue familiarity. A man stumbles across some strange
acquaintances; I prefer to steer clear of such parties, but it is
sometimes hard to shake them off."
"He seemed very well acquainted," thought Robert, but he said
nothing. In fact he was considerably at a loss what to think of his
employer, who chose to say very little of his past history. He felt that
he should not care to remain long with him, but for the present
there seemed no objection to fill up the remainder of the season in
his employ.
From Chicago Robert and his employer travelled northwest, till
they entered the State of Minnesota. Here, somewhat to Robert's
surprise, they left the cars at a small town, which I will call Florence,
and registered at a small hotel, which I will call the Dearborn House.
Probably our hero looked surprised, and Fitzgerald volunteered an
explanation.
"It is here where Mr. Robertson's land is located," he said.
"I thought it was Mr. Robinson—Ashley Robinson," said Robert.
"To be sure," returned Fitzgerald, rather disconcerted, for he had
forgotten the name he had extemporized in Chicago; "I am always
making mistakes about names. I have to enter everything in my
diary."
The morning after, Robert chanced to pick up a piece of paper
just outside his employer's door. As there seemed to be writing upon
it he picked it up, thinking that it might be of some importance.
On the scrap of paper there was a name which immediately
arrested Robert's interest—the name of Hugo Richmond.
 "Richmond," repeated Robert, in surprise. "Why, that is the
name of the man I was said so strongly to resemble. Is it possible
that Mr. Fitzgerald knows him?"
Then he bethought himself that Richmond was not an
uncommon name and there was no necessary connection between
Hugo Richmond and the Julian Richmond whom he resembled. Still
the discovery of this paper made him thoughtful. He would have
liked to question his employer, but felt instinctively aware that it
would do no good. Besides, from the manner in which he had found
the paper, it would seem as if he were trying to spy out his master's
affairs.
"Robert," said Fitzgerald, after breakfast, "let us go out and take
a walk."
"With pleasure," answered the boy, politely.
"I am going out to take a look at Mr. Robinson's land," said
Fitzgerald.
"Has he much?"
"Oh, yes; he owns a quarter section, which he took up some
years since at the government's price—a dollar and a quarter an
acre. It must be worth a good deal more now."
"I suppose he wants to sell?"
"Yes. He lives so far away that he can't well look after it.
Besides, by selling now he can make a large profit."
"Do you think you can sell it readily, Mr. Fitzgerald?"
"Yes; I have written to a land speculator to meet me here to-
morrow. I think I can drive a bargain with him. I shall make a good
commission myself on the sale."
"I am glad of it," said Robert, politely.
They left the road, and went across the fields over the level,
prairie-like land. In the distance was a deserted cabin, which
appeared to be partially burned.
"Are you going to that cabin?" asked our hero.
"Yes," answered his employer. "That cabin is on Mr. Robinson's
land."
"Did he build it?"

Robert Thrown into the Disused Well.

"No; it was built by a squatter, who took advantage of the owner

being a non-resident, and made himself at home here, without leave
or license. The cabin had not been erected long, however, before it
caught fire and was partially burned."
"Does any one live there now?"
"No."
The two kept on their way till they reached the deserted cabin.
 A rod or two distant was an open well, which seemed, as well as
the cabin, to be disused.
"The squatter seems to have dug a well," said Robert.
"Yes; I wonder whether it is deep," said Fitzgerald.
Naturally Robert advanced till he stood on the brink of the well.
An instant later and he was pushed violently forward and fell into the
yawning pit.
"That disposes of him forever!" said Fitzgerald, and turning, he
fled swiftly from the spot, leaving the victim of his treachery to his
fate.
 CHAPTER XXVII.
ROBERT FINDS HIMSELF IN A TIGHT PLACE.

T HE action of Fitzgerald was so rapid and unexpected that Robert

was unable to protect himself in any way. He fell, but
mechanically, as he had seen trapeze performers do in the circus
when falling, he held himself erect, with his hands at his sides, and
dropped in that position into three feet of water at the bottom of the
well. Fortunately for him the depth of the well was not great, about
fifteen feet, and he sustained no injury to his limbs, the water,
moreover, breaking the force of the descent.
Still, when unexpectedly he found himself at the bottom of the
well, his situation was by no means pleasant.
"What could have induced Mr. Fitzgerald to push me in?" he
asked himself in a bewildered way. "What possible object could he
have in doing it?"
That his employer did push him he couldn't doubt, for he felt the
push, which was a forcible one. Yet it seemed so causeless, so
utterly without an object, that he was tempted to doubt the
testimony of his senses. To the reader, of course, it is perfectly clear,
but we have sources of information that Robert had not.
He was not a boy to give up, though it certainly looked hopeless
to attempt to get out. Had the well been at the East it would have
been walled in on all sides by rocks, but stones of any size are not
numerous in many parts of the West, and this had originally been
boarded, but some of the boards had disappeared.
"It isn't very deep," thought Robert, "but how in the world am I
to get out?"
 He made several attempts, but they were all futile. Things began
to look serious, for the house was deserted, and probably very few
persons came that way.
While in a state of painful anxiety he heard, faintly, a boy
whistle. The sound became more distinct as if the boy were
approaching, and hope was kindled in our hero's breast.
"If I could only attract his attention," he thought.
He shouted as loud as he could, but the sound was partially lost
before it reached the surface of the well. Still it attracted the
attention of Fred Lathrop, the boy who was whistling, who stopped
to listen.
"Where did that sound come from?" he thought.
It was repeated, and this time he could distinguish the word
"Help!"
"By gracious, it comes from the well!" he said to himself. "Who
can be down there?"
He drew near and looked down. It was darker near the bottom,
but he could descry Robert, who was looking up.
"Who's there?" asked Fred.
"It's I—a boy. Help me up!"
"How did you get down there?"
"Help me out and I'll tell you."
"I don't see how I am to do it," said Fred, after a pause.
"Isn't there a rope round about there somewhere?"
"The old well-rope used to be coiled up in a corner of the house;
I don't know whether it's there now."
"Look—will you?"
Fred needed no second request. He went to the house and was
fortunate enough to find the rope. He brought it with him to the
edge of the well.
"I've got it!" he exclaimed.
"Throw one end to me."
This was done.
"Now, do you think you can pull hard enough to draw me out? I
will help myself with my feet."
"I am afraid I'm not strong enough."
"Suppose you try," said Robert, who didn't like to give up the
hope of an immediate escape.
"Stop, there's my brother-in-law coming across the fields," said
Fred, eagerly. "He will help me."
"Mr. Davis!" he cried, "come here and help me."
"What are you up to, Fred?" inquired the young man addressed.
"Are you fishing in the well?"
"Yes; I am fishing—for a boy," responded Fred.
"Are you gone crazy?"
"No; come here and look for yourself."
Davis did so, and was sensible enough to understand, though
very much surprised, that it would be best to postpone his inquiries
till the boy was rescued.
"Give me hold of the rope!" he said. "Now, you boy down there,
can you give a good, firm grip?"
"Try me and see."
"If you let it slip through your fingers you will fall back and hurt
yourself."
"I won't let it slip. Keep firm hold yourself."
It was not altogether an easy task, and Robert was rubbed
unpleasantly against the sides of the well; but at length victory
crowned the efforts of the three, and our hero, his clothes looking
none the better for his immersion in the water, and his contact with
the sides of the well gave him a decided tramp-like appearance.
"Well, here you are!" said Mr. Davis. "How did you get into the
well? Did you fall in?"
"I was pushed in," answered Robert.
"Pushed in!" repeated Fred and his brother-in-law in concert.
"Yes."
"Who pushed you in?"
"My employer—the man I was travelling with."
"What made him do it?"
"That is more than I can tell."
"Was he angry with you?"
"There had been no quarrel nor disagreement, and I supposed
we were excellent friends."
"I wouldn't fancy such a friend," said Fred, dryly.
"The man must have had some motive," said Mr. Davis, who was
a young lawyer.
"I can't think of any. I think he may have been insane," said
Robert, to whom this had occurred as a possible solution of the
problem.
"How long had you been with him?"
"Only about a week. He proposed to me to take a walk this
morning, and brought me here."
"Your clothes look the worse for the fall," said Fred.
"Yes, I look like a tramp," answered Robert, glancing down at his
wet and muddy clothes with disgust. "I've got another suit at the
hotel, unless Mr. Fitzgerald has carried off my valise. I don't much
like going back there in this trim."
"You needn't," said Fred. "Come home with me. You are about
my size; I will lend you one of my suits, while yours is being
cleansed and dried."
"Thank you!" said Robert, relieved; "you are very kind. And what
will your mother say when she sees you bringing such a looking
tramp home with you?"
"Don't trouble yourself about that," said Fred. "Mother will
understand it. She'll see that even if you do look like a tramp you're
not a professional."
"That's just what I am," responded Robert, smiling. "I am a
professional—circus rider."
"You don't say so!" exclaimed Fred, with something of interest.
"Are you a bareback rider?"
"Yes."
"We've got a horse in the barn. Won't you try riding on him?"
"Oh, the horse has to be trained as well as the rider: I can't
perform on a horse that has never been in the ring."
"Then how did you happen to be with this man that served you
such a trick?"
Robert explained.
Quarter of an hour's walk brought them to a substantial farm-
house occupied by Fred's family. He introduced Robert to his mother
—a pleasant-faced lady, who received our hero cordially, especially
after she had been informed of the manner in which he had been
treated by his employer.
Fred took Robert up to his own bedroom, where he placed one
of his own suits at his disposal. The soiled suit was taken down-
stairs, where it was first dried by the fire and afterwards brushed
clean till it once more assumed the respectable look which rightfully
belonged to it.
Meanwhile Fred went round to the hotel to ascertain whether
Fitzgerald had made his appearance.
He ascertained that he had returned and reported that the boy
had gone on to the next town, where he was to join him. He paid
the bill of both, took both valises and drove to the nearest railway
station.
"He's taken French leave!" said Fred. "He evidently never
expects to see you again."
"He may be disappointed in that," said Robert, quietly; "I may
appear to him when he least expects it. I intend to find out if I can
what was his object in throwing me into the well."
"That's where I'm with you!" said Fred. "I wouldn't let him go
unpunished for such an outrage."
When Robert came to reflect upon his situation, however, he felt
embarrassed. His bills, of course, had been paid by Fitzgerald, and
he had not yet received any wages. The consequence was, that
while he was nearly two thousand miles distant from his starting-
point, he had but a dollar and a half in his pocket. He might, to be
sure, write to Dr. Grey for a portion of his savings, but it would take
some time for the remittance to arrive.
 CHAPTER XXVIII.
ROBERT SUBDUES A HORSE.

R OBERT somehow had an objection to sending to Dr. Grey for

money, though the money was his own. It seemed like a
confession of failure, and he did not care to write what sort of an
accident had befallen him, since it would involve long explanations.
Therefore, though he had but a dollar and a half left, he decided to
set out on his way home; that is, towards the East, trusting to luck
to get along. Though this was, perhaps rash, it was not so rash in
Robert's case as it would have been in the case of an average boy,
for he had been accustomed to earn his own living and possessed
some talents and accomplishments which he could turn to account.
He took leave of his good friends, the Lathrops, without
betraying to them his condition, or they would have insisted upon
giving him substantial aid. As it was, Mrs. Lathrop insisted upon
preparing, with her own hands, a substantial lunch, which in due
time Robert found very acceptable.
He set out on his journey on foot. His small capital would not
allow him to travel in any other way. His clothes had been dried and
pressed, and he presented a neat appearance, so that he was not
likely to be taken for a tramp, though in his earlier days he had
travelled in that character.
He walked in a leisurely way during the forenoon, and about
noon sat down under a tree and ate his lunch. It was a plentiful one,
but Robert, whose appetite had been sharpened by his walk, did full
justice to it. In fact he ate it all.
"There's no particular hurry," he thought; "I may as well lie here
for awhile and rest during the heat of the day."
 It was not quite 2 o'clock when he was roused from a revery by
hearing carriage wheels. He looked up and saw a lady in a four-
wheel carriage, drawn by a horse who was inclined to be fractious.
The lady driver was evidently anxious, for she pulled the reins
frantically, and called out, "Whoa! you sir! Why don't you behave?
Oh dear, what shall I do?"
The horse shook his head, pranced, backed, and was evidently
prepared to make trouble, much to the discomfort and alarm of the
lady.
"Oh, dear! I wish I hadn't come alone!" she exclaimed. "I didn't
think Prince would behave so. It's lucky if I don't get my neck
broken!"
The horse was quite aware that he was master of the situation,
and that his driver had lost her presence of mind, and, with a
perversity which we sometimes see in horses, made up his mind to
act as badly as possible.
So occupied was the lady that she did not see the boy, who sat
under a tree by the roadside, nor suspected that in him she was to
find a deliverer.
If there was any one accustomed to horses, and utterly without
fear of them, it was Robert, as may be supposed from the nature of
his training. He sprang to his feet when he perceived the situation,
and, running forward, took off his hat, and asked politely, "Can I be
of any service to you, madam?"
"Can you drive horses?" asked the lady, doubtfully.
Robert smiled.
"I'm used to them," he answered.
"Then won't you get in and drive for me? Prince is acting very
badly to-day."
Robert did not wait for the carriage to stop, but with his usual
activity clambered in, and was at the lady's side in an instant.
 "Now," he said, "let me take the reins."
"If you are sure that you can drive," said Miss Stafford,
doubtfully.
"You shall see for yourself," answered Robert, confidently.
He held the reins with a firm hand. The horse, though
immediately sensible that there was a new hand at the helm, if I
may speak figuratively, wasn't quite ready to yield.
Seeing that he was still fractious, Robert took the whip and
brought it down smartly on the horse's flanks.
"Oh, what are you doing?" asked the lady in alarm. "Prince will
run away with us!"
"Let him try it," said Robert, his eyes flashing. "If I can't subdue
him, I'll sell out to some one that can!"
This was a boy's expression, but his confident manner served to
reassure Miss Stafford, though Prince did really undertake to run.
The road, however, was good, there were no carriages to encounter,
and Robert gave him his head, holding the reins, however, in a
strong, firm grasp.
"I never rode so fast in my life!" said Miss Stafford nervously, as
they flew over the road. "Don't let us tip over."
"No, ma'am, I won't."
After a while Prince slackened his speed. It was rather a warm
day, and he found that it was not quite so good fun running as he
found it when he felt that his driver was frightened—now the least
sign of fractiousness was instantly followed by a smart stroke of the
whip.
"I believe you do understand horses," said Miss Stafford at
length.
"It's my business to understand them," answered Robert.
"You ain't a—jockey, are you?" asked the lady.
 "No; I have been a circus-rider."
"You don't say so!" ejaculated the lady. "You can't jump through
hoops and all them things, can you?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"You are not with a circus now, are you?"
Robert explained that he had left circus life for a time, but had
been thrown out of employment unexpectedly.
"I am going to a birthday party of a little niece of mine," said
Miss Stafford. "She is twelve years old to-day. There will be twenty
or thirty boys and girls there. I wish you could do something to
amuse them. It would make us all the more welcome."
"I am a little of a magician," said Robert. "If you think they
would like to see some tricks—"
"The very thing!" exclaimed Miss Stafford, enthusiastically. "They
are all fond of tricks. Where did you learn?"
When Miss Stafford was informed that Robert had learned of a
real magician, that is of a professor of magic, she was very much
pleased.
"I will engage you, then," she said, "for the afternoon and
evening. When I say engage you, I mean I will pay you for your
trouble."
"Oh, I won't charge anything," said Robert.
"But you must!" said the lady positively. "Louisa Stafford never
allows any one to work for nothing. Besides you have perhaps
prevented Prince here from breaking my neck. I certainly won't be
mean enough to make you work for nothing. I warrant you are not
over-provided with money."
"Well, no," answered Robert, smiling. "I can't say I am. I have
only a dollar and a half here, though I have some money in the
hands of a friend at the East."
 "And how far are you expecting to travel?"
"To New York."
"To New York—almost two thousand miles—on a dollar and a
half! Goodness gracious, what a wild idea!"
"Oh, I expect to find something to do on the way, and if I don't I
shall meet with good friends."
"A dollar and a half! I never heard of such a thing!" reiterated
Miss Stafford.
Miss Louisa Stafford was a rich and kind-hearted maiden lady,
who, unlike many of her class, was very fond of young people and a
great favorite with them. No gathering of her nephews or nieces was
considered complete without the presence of Aunt Louisa, who was
sure in every way to promote the happiness of the young company.
She was delighted to secure in Robert one who could so materially
help her, and inwardly resolved to reward him well for his services.
They drove up to a large house with a broad lawn, shaded by
fine trees, under which were assembled a merry crowd of young
people. When Miss Stafford's carriage was espied there was a rush
to greet her.
"How are you all, children?" she said, heartily. "Oh; I see you are
looking at this young gentleman with me. Well, he has saved my
life."
"Saved your life!" exclaimed the children in chorus.
"Yes, Prince undertook to run away with and upset me, but
Master Robert, here (she had inquired his name), subdued him, and
here I am. I have taken the liberty to invite Professor Rudd to join
our party."
"Professor Rudd!" repeated the children, bewildered.
"Yes; this young gentleman is a professor of magic, and he will
perform some tricks this evening. This afternoon I expect you to be
polite to him, and invite him to join your games."
 This all were very ready to do, for Robert was good-looking and
gentlemanly in appearance, and soon made himself a general
favorite.
Supper was served between five and six o'clock, and early in the
evening Robert appeared as a magician. He had quite a variety of
tricks and illustrations, and this part of the programme gave great
satisfaction.
The next morning (for Miss Stafford and Robert also passed the
night in the hospitable mansion) when our young hero was ready to
start out on his journey, Miss Stafford, put in his hand a sealed
envelope.
"Don't open this," she said, "till you have gone at least a mile."
 CHAPTER XXIX.
AN UNPLEASANT ACQUAINTANCE.

R OBERT felt curious to learn what was in the letter, but faithfully
carried out the wishes of Miss Stafford, and did not open it till he
was more than a mile away.
On opening it, to his surprise he found inclosed two $10 bills,
with the following words written in pencil:

"My Young Friend Robert: I desire you to accept the

inclosed and hope you will find it of use. You needn't hesitate,
for it comes from a crusty old maid who has more than her
share of this world's goods, and likes to do a little good as
she goes along in life, instead of saving up thousands for
heirs who might squander it. Accept my good wishes and
thanks beside for the service you have done me in taming a
perverse brute, and when you are again in this vicinity be
sure to call on your friend,
"Louisa Stafford."

"The old lady's a trump!" exclaimed Robert warmly. "There isn't

one in a thousand that would be so generous. This is a regular
windfall to me as I am situated now. Now I shan't be obliged to send
to Dr. Grey for part of my savings."
Robert continued on his way with a light heart, for it is
wonderfully cheering to think that one has money enough to pay for
rest and food at the close of the day. Our young hero decided that
he would not walk all the way to the East, but would on the day
following take the cars at any convenient station.
Pursuing his journey, he came to a portion of the road which ran
through the primeval forests, he felt it to be rather a relief, for the
morning was well advanced, and the sun began to make him
uncomfortably warm. He soon had occasion to learn that to be warm
is not the most undesirable thing that can happen to a traveller.
Half a mile from the entrance of the wood he saw sitting on the
fallen trunk of a tree a rough-looking fellow, whose face looked even
more repulsive than usual from a short black beard which appeared
to be of a week's growth. He looked like what he was—a tramp, who
was so from choice, even more than from necessity.
"What an ill-looking fellow!" thought Robert.
The man looked up, and scanned the boy curiously.
"Hallo, young chap!" he said.
"Hallo!" returned Robert.
"Have you got any tobacco about you?" inquired the tramp.
"No, I never use it."
"Then have you a cigar? That will do just as well."
"No; I don't smoke at all."
"Oh, you are an innocent baby!" said the man, with a sneer of
disappointment.
Robert did not think it necessary to reply, but was moving on,
being anxious to get away from so undesirable a companion as soon
as possible.
"Stop a minute, boy—don't be in such a hurry," said the man.
"If you have anything to say to me I will listen," said Robert,
coldly.
 "You will, will you? You're mighty accommodatin'! Where are you
goin'?"
"Straight ahead!"

Robert and the Tramp.

"Any fool would know that. That isn't an answer."

"Why do you wish to know?" retorted Robert.
"That's my business!" said the tramp, his repulsive features
assuming an ugly expression. "You'd better answer my question."
Robert thought on the whole it would be prudent to avoid
trouble by keeping on as good terms as possible with the man.
"I can't tell you," he said, "for I don't know myself. I expect to
keep on till I get to New York."
"That's where I'm goin'! Suppose we keep company," said the
man with a grin.
 "We can keep company for the present, if you wish," answered
Robert, trying to repress his disgust.
"Look here, young fellow! Have you got any money?" asked the
tramp with a sidelong glance.
Robert was not surprised at this inquiry, for he had expected it,
but in spite of his courage it alarmed him, for he could see that he
was no match in physical strength for this ill-looking man.
"A little!" he answered.
"How much?"
"That's my business," answered Robert, provoked. "I don't ask
how much money you've got."
"I haven't a cent," said the tramp, "but," he added, significantly,
"I'm going to have some soon."
The look which accompanied this declaration made it evident
what he meant, and Robert looked about to see what chance he had
of escape if the worst came to the worst. As to surrendering the $20
for which he had been indebted to the generosity of Miss Stratton,
he had no intention of doing it, unless it should be absolutely
necessary.
"I have nothing to do with your affairs," said Robert. "If you'll let
me know which way you are going, I'll go the other way."
"Will you so? No, boy, you don't get rid of me so easily. We're
goin' the same way. If you want to leave you can, but you must
hand over your money first."
"Are you a thief, then?" demanded Robert, quickly.
"No; and you'd better not call me so. I'm only goin' to borrer
your money; I'll give you my note for it," returned the tramp with a
cunning grin.
"I decline to lend," said Robert stoutly.
 "Look here, my young chicken!" said the man in a menacing
tone. Ain't you crowin' rather too loud for a bantem? Do you know
who I am?"
"No, but I can guess."
"Guess, then?"
"You're a man whose company I do not like."
The tramp laughed. Instead of offending, the reply appeared to
amuse him.
"That's true enough, I reckon. Well, I'm a man that don't stand
no nonsense. I want your money."
He advanced towards Robert in a menacing manner, and our
hero, who had been looking about him, jumped aside nimbly, and
seizing the branch of a tree swung himself up into the branches,
before his companion clearly understood his intention.
"Oh, that's your game, is it?" he said, angrily. "It won't do!"
He darted forward, but Robert bad been too quick for him, and
was already out of reach. He was light and agile by nature, and his
training in the ring had helped to make him more so.
"So you think you've escaped me, do you?" he demanded with
an oath.
Robert did not answer, but looked calmly down upon him from
the tree.
"Come down at once!"
"Thank you; I'd rather stay here," said our hero calmly.
Without a word the tramp made an effort to follow Robert up the
tree.
 CHAPTER XXX.
THE TREE OF REFUGE.

T HE tramp was stout and clumsily made, and although he was

strongly made he was not agile. Moreover, the branch by which
Robert had helped himself upward was over six feet from the
ground, and had only been reached by a leap. The trunk of the tree
was large in circumference, and afforded no facilities for climbing.
The efforts of the pursuer, therefore, were vain.
"Come down!" he shouted, peremptorily.
"I have already said that I am very comfortable here," answered
Robert.
"Do you mean to defy me?"
"I don't wish to have anything to do with you."
"I wish I had a pistol!" muttered the tramp. "I'd soon have you
down then."
Robert was devoutly thankful that he was not provided with such
a weapon. He felt relieved by the discovery, for it had occurred to
him as possible, and in that event he would have had to make a
virtue of necessity and come down.
"Why didn't I lay hold of the boy when I had him beside me?"
thought the disappointed tramp. "Who would have thought he could
have sprung up like that?"
He determined to try once more what he could accomplish by
threats.
"Look here, boy, if you know what's best for yourself, you'll come
down!" he cried, furiously.
 "I think it's best for me to remain up here," said Robert.
"When you come down I'll wring your neck, you little rascal!"
"That isn't much inducement for me to come down," said Robert,
coolly.
"If you come down within five minutes and hand over your
money, I'll let you go without doing you any harm."
"That's very kind of you, but I need it myself."
Robert's coolness incensed the tramp, who would have felt more
satisfaction if his intended victim had exhibited terror.
Robert was reminded of the scene in the woods at Crampton,
where Mr. Tarbox had besieged Charlie Davis and himself, and the
trick by which they had then escaped. This would not work now, and
indeed it didn't seem clear how he was to escape at all. There was
nothing but to remain up in the tree, and try to tire out the patience
of the thievish tramp.
Twenty minutes passed. They passed slowly for Robert, but they
also passed slowly for his besieger, who was in a hurry to get
possession of the boy's money, and feared some one might come
along to whom he could appeal for help. If he had known that
Robert had twenty dollars in his pocket his eagerness would have
increased.
"Are you coming down?" he demanded, looking up in the tree
fiercely.
"When you are gone away," answered the boy, composedly.
"If you wait much longer I'll murder you when you do come
down. You may think I won't do it, but I'm savage enough to do
anything."
"I don't doubt it at all," said our hero.
"I might tell you of how I've served other persons who trifled
with me."
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