“Call ’em all you want,” mocked Reade.  “They won’t come back.  They’re too wise for that.”

Dick, having given the order for the holding of the one tramp who remained, now gave all his attention to Reuben Hinman.

“The poor old man must be rather badly hurt,” Prescott declared.  “I can’t get him to talk.  Did you fellows bring a lantern with you?”

The lantern was lit and brought forward.

“I don’t know what the matter is with him,” said Dick at last.  “But that’s all the more reason why we must get him where he can have attention.  The village of Dunfield is four miles below here.  We must get him there at once.  And we’ll march the hobo there, too, in the hope that the village has a lock-up.”

“It hasn’t,” snarled the tramp.

“Oh, we wouldn’t take your word on a vital point like that,” jeered Darry.

“The first thing you’ll do will be to give back this poor old man’s money,” Dick went on, eyeing the tramp.

“I haven’t got it,” came the prompt denial.  “I turned it over to Joe and Bill, and they’ve got away with it.”

“You’re not going to like us a bit, my man,” smiled Prescott.  “We are not the kind of fellows to take your word for anything.  We’re going to see whether or not you have the money.  We’re going through your clothing for it.  Poor old Mr. Hinman will need it for the care that I am afraid he is going to require.  Search the fellow, Tom.”

Greg now aided Dave in holding the vagabond.  The tramp made such a commotion during the search that Dick and Greg added their help in holding him.

Out of a trousers’ pocket Tom dragged the peddler’s money sack.  It was still tied.

“Let me have it,” said Dick, and took it over by the campfire, where he untied the sack and peered into it.

“There’s a roll of bills and at least ten, dollars in change in the sack,” Dick announced, “so I think that none of the money has been taken.”

“That’s my money you’ve got,” snarled the tramp.

“Tell that to the Senate!” Tom suggested.

Greg and Dan now aided Dick in lifting Mr. Hinman to the floor of his wagon, where they laid him on a pile of rags.  Mr. Hinman was breathing, and his pulse could be distinctly felt.

“Dave, I guess you and I had better go along with the wagon,” Dick suggested.  “Now, see here, Tom, you and the other fellows go back to camp and act just as if we were all there.  Start in the morning, as usual.  You ought to be in Fenton by noon to-morrow.  If Dave and I don’t join you before that time, then you’ll find us at Fenton.”

“What are you going to do with the hobo?” Reade wanted to know.

“Roll him over on his face and tie his hands.  Then we’ll hitch him to the back of Mr. Hinman’s wagon, and I’ll walk with him and see that he goes along without making trouble, while Dave drives.”

At this moment Reade alone was occupied in sitting on the captive, Dave having risen when it was suggested that he go with Dick to Dunfield.