“They are not mine.”

“Give me enough to buy a dinner, then,” growled the tramp.

“Why should I give you anything?  You threw a stone at me on the road.”

The tramp turned away muttering, and the glance with which he eyed Andy was far from friendly.

As directed, Andy went over to the hotel and got dinner.  He took the opportunity to dispose of the bills, putting all the large ones in his inside vest pocket.  The small bills he distributed among his other pockets.

Andy started for home at two o’clock.  He felt some responsibility, remembering that he had a considerable sum of money with him.

This made him anxious, and he felt that he should be glad to get home safe and deliver his funds to Mr. Gale.  Probably he would not have thought of danger if he had not met the tramp on his way over.

The road for the most part was clear and open, but there was one portion, perhaps a third of a mile in length, bordered by trees and underbrush.  It was so short, however, that it would be soon passed over.

But about the middle of it a man sprang from the side of the road and seized the horse by the bridle.  It did not require a second look to satisfy Andy that it was the tramp.

The crisis had come!  Andy’s heart was in his mouth.  He was a brave boy, but it might well make even an older person nervous to be stopped by an ill-looking tramp, who was without doubt a criminal.

“Let go that bridle!” called Andy in a tone which, in spite of his nervousness, was clear and resolute.

“So I will when I have got what I want,” answered the tramp.

“What do you want?”

“Look at me and you can tell what I want.”

“I presume you want money, but I have none to give you.”

“You are lying.  You have plenty of money about your clothes.”

“I said I had no money to give you.”

“Didn’t I see you get a roll of bills at the bank?”

“Very likely you did, but what about that?”

“I want some of them.  I won’t take all, but I am a poor man, and I need them more than the man you are taking them to.”

“Whom do you think I am taking them to?”

“Squire Carter.  He is the only man in Arden that keeps no much money in the bank.”

“You are mistaken; the money is not his.”

“Whose, then?”

“I don’t feel called upon to tell you.”

“Well, that’s neither here nor there.  I want some of it.  I’ll be content with half, whoever owns it.”

“You won’t get any.  Let go the horse, or I’ll run you down.”

“You’re a smart kid, but you are no match for me.  I don’t scare worth a cent.”

“Listen to me,” said Andy; “if you should succeed in robbing me, you would be caught and sent to jail.  How will that suit you?”

“It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been in jail.  I’d just as soon be there as to tramp around without a cent of money.”