“You miserable rascal,” cried Desmond, “lay a finger on a bill on that seat and I’ll pin your hand to the car seat.”

Well, there was a scene of consternation around there just at that instant, and our hero said: 

“I’ve been carrying out your programme, amusing myself with a sneak thief, and now, Mr. Senator’s Son, you have evidence that Yorkers do know a thing or two, and you get yourself together and get out of this car and off the train at the next station, or I’ll make a horse-fly net of you.  Is that plain English?  Take your own money, I don’t need it.  You are under cover, but let me give you a pointer—­you play the senator’s son too well altogether to make a success of it.”

The group of gamblers stared in silence.  They did not dare make a hostile move; there was something about Desmond in his transformed appearance that froze them—­indeed, even his youth was a mystery to them, for he acted like a man who had had years of experience.

“You started in, gentlemen, to play a big game of robbery, but ran up against a snag.  I am letting you off easy—­very easy—­but you see we young fellows from York are not malicious.”

The gamblers had indeed gotten off easily, and we will here explain that they did not fear Desmond in a scrimage; but they would have feared any one who would have made a fight, as they did not wish to draw the attention of the train men to their scheme which had been exposed.  Had they been winners they would have made a fight, but the game they were attempting was one of highway robbery, for they had been outwitted in the deal, and had no claim upon the money.

The train arrived at a station and the gamblers started to alight.  They felt bitter, and the self-styled senator’s son said to Desmond: 

“The train will stop here fifteen minutes.  You are a good fellow, I like you, I’d like to have you stop off a minute and have a cool drink with us.”

Desmond well knew the scoundrel’s purpose, but being fond of adventure he determined to give the rascals a still greater surprise.  He was in splendid condition, his muscles were developed up to the consistency of whit-leather, and with a smile he rose to follow the man who had invited him to alight for refreshment.  The gambler stepped off the car ahead of Desmond; the latter followed, when the former suddenly swung round and made a vicious lunge at the youth who had so cleverly outwitted him, and once again the scamp was outwitted.  A second time he ran up against a snag, for our hero dodged the blow that was meant for him and countered with a tremendous slugger which landed on his assailant’s nose, and over the man fell with a swiftness that would have suggested the kick of a horse, and when he fell he lay there; but two of the other chaps had in the meantime made a rush for Desmond, and they received a rap successively—­indeed, they had run in on our young walking champion where he was at home.  He was a wonder in science, strength and agility; no two or three ordinary men would have had any show with him at all, and the fact was the assailants so determined, for the attack was not renewed, and our hero stepped aboard the train, the object of the wondering glances of twenty people who had witnessed the assault and its culmination.