This was my chance.  Unarmed I was evidently in his power.  If I could only escape from the tool house!

The door still stood partly open, and the darkness of night—­ for the moon had gone down—­ was beyond.  A dash and I would be outside.  Still the tramp stood between me and liberty.  Should I attack him or endeavor to slip to one side?

I had but an instant to think; another, and it would be too late.  John Stumpy was fumbling in the envelope.  His eyes were searching for the precious document.

With a single bound I sprang against him, knocking him completely off his feet.  Then I made another jump for the door.

But he was too quick for me.  Dropping the envelope and the pistol, he caught me by the foot, and in an instant both of us were rolling on the floor.

It was an unequal struggle.  Strong as I was for a boy of my age, I was no match for this burly man.  Turn and twist all I could, he held me in his grip while he heaped loud imprecations upon my head.

In our movements on the floor we came in contact with the lantern and upset it, smashing the frame as well as the glass.

For a moment darkness reigned.  Then a tiny light from the corner lit up the place.  The flames had caught the shavings.

“The place is on fire!” I cried in horror.

“Yes, and you did it,” replied the tramp.

“It was you!” I returned stoutly, and, as a matter of fact, it may be as well to state that John Stumpy’s foot had caused the accident.

“Not much; it was your fault, and you’ve got to take the blame.”

As the rascal spoke, he caught me by the throat, squeezing it so tightly that I was in great danger of being choked to death.

“Let—­ let up!” I gasped.

The choking continued.  My head began to grow dizzy, and strange lights danced before my eyes.  I protested against this proceeding as vigorously as I could by kicking the man sharply and rapidly.

But Stumpy now meant to do me real injury.  He realized that I knew too much for his future welfare.  In fact, he, no doubt, imagined I knew far more than I really did.  If I was out of the way for all time so much the better for him.

“Take that!” he suddenly cried, and springing up he brought his heel down with great force on my head.

I cannot describe the sensation that followed.  It was as if a sharp, blinding pain had stung me to the very heart.  Then my senses forsook me.

How long I lay in a comatose state I do not know.  Certainly it could not have been a very long time—­ probably not over five or six minutes.

In the meantime the fire rapidly spread igniting the barrels that were stored in the tool house, and climbing up the walls of the building to the roof.

When I recovered my senses, my face was fairly scorched, and no sooner had I opened my eyes than they were blinded by smoke and flame.