Carl might have denied that he knew the character of the bill which was stolen from him, but I am glad to say that it would have come from him with a very ill grace, for he was accustomed to tell the truth under all circumstances.

“You knew that the bill was counterfeit, didn’t you?” demanded the tramp, fiercely.

“I was told so at the hotel where I offered it in payment for my bill.”

“Yet you passed it on me!”

“I didn’t pass it on you.  You took it from me,” retorted Carl, with spirit.

“That makes no difference.”

“I think it does.  I wouldn’t have offered it to anyone in payment of an honest bill.”

“Humph! you thought because I was poor and unfortunate you could pass it off on me!”

This seemed so grotesque that Carl found it difficult not to laugh.

“Do you know it nearly got me into trouble?” went on the tramp.

“How was that?”

“I stopped at a baker’s shop to get a lunch.  When I got through I offered the bill.  The old Dutchman put on his spectacles, and he looked first at the bill, then at me.  Then he threatened to have me arrested for passing bad money.  I told him I’d go out in the back yard and settle it with him.  I tell you, boy, I’d have knocked him out in one round, and he knew it, so he bade me be gone and never darken his door again.  Where did you get it?”

“It was passed on me by a man I was traveling with.”

“How much other money have you got?” asked the tramp.

“Very little.”

“Give it to me, whatever it is.”

This was a little too much for Carl’s patience.

“I have no money to spare,” he said, shortly.

“Say that over again!” said the tramp, menacingly.

“If you don’t understand me, I will.  I have no money to spare.”

“You’ll spare it to me, I reckon.”

“Look here,” said Carl, slowly backing.  “You’ve robbed me of ten dollars.  You’ll have to be satisfied with that.”

“It was no good.  It might have sent me to prison.  If I was nicely dressed I might pass it, but when a chap like me offers a ten-dollar bill it’s sure to be looked at sharply.  I haven’t a cent, and I’ll trouble you to hand over all you’ve got.”

“Why don’t you work for a living?  You are a strong, able-bodied man.”

“You’ll find I am if you give me any more of your palaver.”

Carl saw that the time of negotiation was past, and that active hostilities were about to commence.  Accordingly he turned and ran, not forward, but in the reverse direction, hoping in this way to meet with Mr. Jennings.

“Ah, that’s your game, is it?” growled the tramp.  “You needn’t expect to escape, for I’ll overhaul you in two minutes.”

So Carl ran, and his rough acquaintance ran after him.

It could hardly be expected that a boy of sixteen, though stout and strong, could get away from a tall, powerful man like the tramp.