“The truth is,” added the count, “we’re down on our luck just now, and would like you to accommodate us with a trifle of a loan.”

The tramps placed themselves while talking so as to forestall any attempt on the part of the lad to break away.

“I haven’t any money to lend you,” sturdily answered Tom.

“Do you mean to say you have no funds in your exchequer?” continued the count; “’cause if you haven’t, of course we don’t want anything to do with you.”

It flashed upon Tom that he had only to speak an untruth to free himself of the presence of these miscreants.  Would it be a sin for him to say he had no money with him?

Only for an instant did the temptation linger.  His mother had taught him that a lie was never justifiable under any circumstances.

“I did not say I had no money,” he said, “but that I had none to lend you.”

“Ah, that’s a different matter.  I’m afeard, Duke,” he continued, addressing his companion, “that we shall be under the necessity of making a forced loan; how does the proposition strike you?”

“I’m convinced we shall be reduced to that painful necessity.  If I’m not mistook, this young gentleman was paid a hundred dollars this afternoon for his bravery in throwing a royal Bengal tiger over his shoulder and bringing him back to the circus, from which erstwhile the animal strayed.”

Poor Tom saw it was all up with him.  These wretches must have known about the reward from the moment he received it.  They had planned the robbery, and he had walked straight into the trap set for him.

“Yes, I have a hundred dollars given to me for helping to catch the tiger; I was taking it home to my mother.”

“That’s a good boy,” commented the count; “always think of your mother, for the market isn’t overstocked with first-class mothers.  But bear in mind, sonny, that we’re only borering this for sixty days, and we’ll give you ten per cent interest—­that’s our style of doing bus’ness, eh, Duke?”

“Well, if I must, I must,” said Tom hopelessly, making a move of his hand as if to draw the money from his trousers pocket.

“That’s right, allers take things philosophically, and be ready to extend a helping hand to them as”—­

The count had got thus far in his observations, when the boy darted to one side, and made a desperate attempt to pass them and reach the fence on his right.

He came very nigh succeeding too.  In fact, he did get to the fence, and was in the act of clambering over, when he was seized in the iron grip of Count De Buffer, who was angered at the narrow escape of the youth making off with the funds.

“If you try anything like that agin, I’ll kill you!” he said, choking and shaking the boy; “we mean bus’ness, young man, and don’t you forget it!”

Tom still struggled furiously, and pulled so hard that all three moved several paces along the highway.  Nor did he cease his resistance until he had been struck several cruel blows.