“All right, sir.”

When Andy reached the hotel on his return he found the buggy ready.  Harnessed to it was the best horse in the hotel stable.

“A pleasant journey to you!” said Walter Gale, smiling at Andy from the piazza.

“Thank you, sir.”

Andy drove off at good speed.  It was a bright, clear morning.  The air was invigorating, and his spirits rose.

He reflected upon his good luck in having found such a friend as Walter Gale.  He had been unfortunate, to be sure, in being compelled to leave school, but the hardship was very much mitigated by Mr. Gale’s friendship.

He had gone two-thirds of the way when he overtook a man whose bloated look and shabby clothing proclaimed him to belong to the large class of tramps whose business seems to be to roam through the country in quest of plunder.

The man looked up as Andy reached him.

“I say, boy,” he called out, “give me a lift, won’t you?”

Andy was kind-hearted, but he was repelled by the unsavory look of the man who asked him this favor.  He felt that it would be very unpleasant to have such a man sitting beside him in the buggy.

“I think you must excuse me,” he said.

“What for?” asked the man, with a scowl.  “Are you too proud to take in a poor man?”

“I don’t object to you being poor,” answered Andy; “but you look as if you had been drinking.”

The man replied by an oath, and, bending over, he picked up a good-sized stone and flung it at the young driver.  Fortunately his condition made his aim unsteady, and the stone flew wide of the mark.

Andy whipped up the horse, and was soon out of danger.

CHAPTER VIII.

A moment of danger.

Andy did not examine the check till he reached the bank in Benton.  Then, glancing at it before he presented it to the paying-teller, he found that it was for one hundred and twenty-five dollars.

“How will you have it?” asked the teller.

“Twenty-five dollars in small bills; the rest in fives and tens,” answered Andy, as instructed by Mr. Gale.

The bills were counted out and placed in his hands.  To Andy they seemed a large sum of money, and, indeed, the roll was big enough to convey that impression.

As he left the bank he saw the familiar but not welcome face of the tramp who had stopped him glued against the pane.  He had attended to some errands before going to the bank, which allowed the fellow time to reach it in season to watch him.

“I wonder if he saw me putting away the bills?” thought Andy.

However, in a town like Benton, there was little chance of robbery.

The tramp looked at him with evil significance as he left the bank.

“Give me a dollar,” he said.

“I can’t,” answered Andy.

“I saw you with a big roll of bills.”