“You seem to be in a hurry,” she continued, with renewed suspicion.

“So I am.  I am in a great hurry to meet an engagement.”

“Why didn’t you go out the front door?” asked the girl.

“Oh, bother!  What business is it of yours?” demanded the professor impatiently.

And, not stopping for further inquiries, he vaulted over a fence and took his way across the fields to the station.

“Here, Sam,” called the girl, her suspicions confirmed that something was wrong, “go after that man as fast as you can!”

This was addressed to a boy who was employed at the hotel to go on errands and do odd jobs.

“What’s he done?” asked Sam.

“I don’t know; but he’s either run off without paying his bill, or he’s stolen something.”

“What good’ll it do me to chase him?” asked Sam.

“If he’s cheated master, he’ll pay you for catching the man.”

“That’s so,” thought Sam.  “Besides, I’ll be a detective, just like that boy I read about in the paper.  I’m off!”

Fired by youthful ambition, Sam also vaulted the fence, and ran along the foot-path in pursuit of the professor.

Lorenzo Riccabocca did not know he was pursued.  He felt himself so safe from this, on account of the secrecy of his departure, that he never took the trouble to look behind him.  He knew the way well enough, for the fields he was crossing were level, and half a mile away, perhaps a little more, he could see the roof of the brown-painted depot, which was his destination.  Once there, he would buy a ticket, get on the train, and get started away from Knoxville before the troublesome acquaintances who were waiting for him to come down-stairs had any idea where he was gone.

The professor ran at a steady, even pace, looking straight before him.  His eyes were fixed on the haven of his hopes, and he did not notice a stone, of considerable size, which lay in his path.  The result was that he stumbled over it, and fell forward with considerable force.  He rose, jarred and sore, but there was no time to take account of his physical damages.  He must wait till he got on the train.

The force with which he was thrown forward was such that the wallet was thrown from his pocket, and fell in the grass beside the path.  The professor went on his way, quite unconscious of his loss, but there were other eyes that did not overlook it.

Sam, who was thirty rods behind, noticed Professor Riccabocca’s fall, and he likewise noticed the wallet when he reached the spot of the catastrophe.

“My eyes!” he exclaimed, opening those organs wide in delight; “here’s luck!  The old gentleman has dropped his pocketbook.  Most likely it’s stolen.  I’ll carry it back and give it to Mr. Perry.”

Sam very sensibly decided that it wasn’t worth while to continue the pursuit, now that the thief, as he supposed Riccabocca to be, had dropped his booty.