"You are doing it now."
"No, I ain't."
"I can't get at him on that hay."
"He can come down if he wants to. I don't stop him. You can come down if you want to, Tony," he said, looking up to where the boy's hat was visible.
Tony did not answer, and Abner continued:
"You see he don't want to come. He'd rather ride. You know he's been sick," said Abner, with a grin, "and he's too delicate to walk. He ain't tough, like you and me."
"He'll need to be tough," muttered the tramp, as he thought of the flogging he intended to give Tony.
"What did you say?"
"Never mind."
"Oh, I don't mind," said Abner. "You can say what you want to. This is a free country, only you can't do what you've a mind to."
Rudolph wished that he had a double stock of strength. It was very provoking to be laughed at and derided by Abner without being able to revenge himself. A pistol or a knife would make him even with the countryman, but Rudolph was too much of a coward to commit such serious crimes when there was so much danger of detection and punishment.
At last they entered Castleton.
The hay was to be delivered to a speculator, whocollected large quantities of it, and forwarded over the railroad to a large city.
It had to be weighed, and Abner drove at once to the hay scales.
"Now," thought Rudolph, with exultation, "the boy must come down, and I shall get hold of him."
"I guess you'd better slide down," said Abner. "I can't sell you for hay, Tony."
There was a movement, and then the boy slid down, Abner catching him as he descended.
Rudolph's face changed ominously when he saw that it wasn't Tony who made his appearance.
"What does this mean?" he demanded furiously.
"What's the matter?"
"This isn't Tony."
"Come to look at him, it isn't," said Abner, with a twinkle in his eye.
"Didn't you say it was Tony?" asked the tramp, exasperated.
"I guess I was mistaken, squire," said Abner, grinning.
"Where is he?"
"I don't know, I'm sure. It seems he didn't come. Guess he must have given us the slip."
The tramp, unable to control his rage, burst into a volley of execrations.
"Hope you feel better, squire," said Abner, when he got through.
The tramp strode off, vowing dire vengeance against both Abner and Tony.
What does this mean? demanded the tramp furiously
"What does this mean?" demanded the tramp furiously. "Thisisn't Tony."—(See page45.)
From the upper window in the farm house, which was situated on elevated ground, Tony saw his old guardian follow Abner. Thus the way was opened for his escape. He waited, however, a short time to make sure that all was safe, and then bade farewell to the farmer and his wife, thanking them heartily for their kindness to him.
"Won't you stay longer with us?" asked the farmer. "You can as well as not."
"Thank you," answered Tony, "but I wouldn't dare to. Rudolph may be back for me, and I want to get away before he has a chance."
"Are you going to walk?" asked the farmer's wife.
"Yes," said Tony. "I've only got five cents in my pocket, and I can't ride far on that."
"I'm afraid you will be tired," said she, sympathetically.
"Oh, I'm used to tramping," returned Tony, lightly. "I don't mind that at all."
"Can't you put up some dinner for him, wife?" suggested the farmer. "It'll make him hungry, walking."
"To be sure I will," she replied, and a large supply of eatables were put in a paper, sufficient to last Tony twenty-four hours, at least.
The farmer deliberated whether he should not offer our hero half a dollar besides, but he was naturally close, so far as money was concerned, and he decided in the negative.
So Tony set out, taking a course directly opposite to that pursued by Abner. In this way he thought he should best avoid the chance of meeting Rudolph.
He walked easily, not being in any special hurry, and whenever he felt at all tired he stopped by the way side to rest. Early in the afternoon he lay down under a tree in the pasture and fell asleep. He was roused by a cold sensation, and found that a dog had pressed his cold nose against his cheek.
"Haven't you any more manners, sir?" demanded Tony, good-naturedly.
The dog wagged his tail, and looked friendly.
"It's a hint that I must be on my journey," he thought.
About five o'clock he felt that it was about time to look out for a night's rest. A hotel was, of course, out of the question, and he looked about for a farm house. The nearest dwelling was a small one, of four rooms, setting back from the road, down a lane.
"Perhaps I can get in there," thought Tony.
An old man, with a patriarchal beard, whose neglected and squalid dress seemed to indicate poverty, was sitting on the door-step.
"Good evening," said Tony.
"Who are you?" demanded the old man, suspiciously.
"I am a poor traveler," said Tony.
"A tramp!" said the old man, in the same suspicious tone.
"Yes, I suppose so," said Tony, although he did not like the title overmuch.
"Well, I've got nothing for you," said the old man, roughly.
"I don't want anything except the chance to sleep."
"Don't you want any supper?"
"No, I've got my supper here," returned our hero, producing his paper of provisions.
"What have you got there?" asked the old man, with an eager look.
"Some bread and butter and cold meat."
"It looks good," said the other, with what Tony thought to be a longing look.
"I'll share it with you, if you'll let me sleep here to-night," said Tony.
"Will you?" the other answered.
"Yes; there's enough for both of us."
The old man was a miser, as Tony suspected. He was able to live comfortably, but he deprived himself of the necessaries of life in order to hoard away money. His face revealed that to Tony. He had nearly starved himself, but he had not overcome his natural appetites, and the sight of Tony's supper gave him a craving for it.
"I don't know," he said, doubtfully. "If I let you sleep here you might get up in the night and rob me."
Tony laughed.
"You don't look as if you had anything worth stealing," he said, candidly.
"You're right, quite right," said old Ben Hayden, for this was his name. "I've only saved a little money—a very little—to pay my funeral expenses. You wouldn't want to take that?"
"Oh, no," said Tony. "I wouldn't take it if you'd give it to me."
"You wouldn't? why not?"
"Because you need it yourself. If you were a rich man it would be different."
"So it would," said old Hayden. "You're a good boy—an excellent boy. I'll trust you. You can stay."
"Then let us eat supper," said Tony.
He sat down on the door-step, and gave the old man half of his supply of food. He was interested to see the avidity with which he ate it.
"Is it good?" he asked.
"I haven't eaten anything so good for a long time. I couldn't afford to buy food."
"I am sorry for you."
"You haven't got any left for breakfast," said the old man.
"Oh, somebody will give me breakfast," said Tony. "I always get taken care of somehow."
"You are young and strong."
"Yes."
"Do you travel around all the time?"
"Yes; but I hope to get a chance to go to work soon; I'd rather live in one place."
"You might live with me if I were not so poor," said the old man.
"Thank you," answered Tony, politely; but it did not appear to him that it was exactly such a home as he would choose.
"Do you live alone?" he asked.
"Yes."
"I didn't know but you might be married."
"I was married when I was a young man, but my wife died long ago."
"Why don't you marry again?" inquired Tony, half in fun.
"I couldn't afford it," answered Hayden, frightened at the suggestion. "Women have terrible appetites."
"Have they?" returned Tony, amused.
"And I can't get enough for myself to eat."
"Have you always lived here?"
"No; I lived in England when I was a young man."
"What made you leave it?"
"Why do you ask me that?" demanded old Ben, suspiciously.
"Oh, if it's a secret, don't tell me," said Tony, indifferently.
"Who said it was a secret?" said the old man, irritably.
"Nobody that I know of."
"Then why do you ask me such questions?"
The old man surveyed Tony with a look of doubt, as if he thought the boy were laying a trap for him.
"Don't answer anything you don't want to," said our hero. "I only asked for the sake of saying something."
"I don't mind telling," said old Ben, more calmly. "It was because I was so poor. I thought I could do better in America."
"And didn't you?"
"When I was able to work. Now I'm weak and poor, and can't always get enough to eat."
"Do you own this place?"
"Yes, but it's a very poor place. It isn't worth much."
"I shouldn't think it was," said Tony.
"You're a good lad—an excellent lad. You see how poor I am."
"Of course I do, and I'm sorry for you. I would help you, only I am very poor myself."
"Have you got any money?" asked Ben, with interest.
"I've got five cents," answered Tony, laughing. "I hope you've got more than that."
"A little more—a very little more," said Ben, cautiously.
The old miser began to consider whether he couldn't charge Tony five cents for his lodging, but sighed at the recollection that Tony had already paid for it in advance by giving him a supper.
When eight o'clock came the miser suggested going to bed.
"I haven't any lights," he said; "candles cost so much. Besides, a body's better off in bed."
"I'm willing to go to bed," said Tony. "I've walked a good deal to-day, and I'm tired."
They went into the house. There was a heap of rags in the corner of the room when they entered.
"That's my bed," said old Ben; "it's all I have."
"I can sleep on the floor," said Tony.
He took off his jacket, and rolled it up for a pillow, and stretched himself out on the bare floor. He had often slept so before.
Tony was not slow in going to sleep. Neither his hard bed nor his strange bed-chamber troubled him. He could sleep anywhere. That was one of the advantages of his checkered life.
Generally he slept all night without awaking, but to-night, for some unknown reason, he awoke about two o'clock. It was unusually light for that hour, and so he was enabled to see what at first startled him. The old man was out of bed, and on his knees in the center of the room. He had raised a plank, forming a part of the flooring, and had raised from beneath it a canvass bag full of gold pieces. He was taking them out and counting them, apparently quite unconscious of Tony's presence.
Tony raised himself on his elbow, and looked at him. It occurred to him that for a man so suspicious it was strange that he should expose his hoard before a stranger. Something, however, in the old man's look led him to think that he was in a sleepwalking fit.
"Ninety-five, ninety-six, ninety-seven," Tony heard him count; "that makes nine hundred and seventy dollars, all gold, good, beautiful gold. Nobody knows the old man is so rich. There's anotherbag, too. There are one hundred pieces in that. Three more, and this will be full, too. Nobody must know, nobody must know."
He put back the pieces, replaced the bag in its hiding-place, and then putting back the plank, laid down once more on his heap of rags.
"How uneasy he would be," thought Tony, "if he knew I had seen his treasures. But I wouldn't rob him for the world, although the money would do me good, and he makes no use of it except to look at it."
If Tony was honest, it was an instinctive feeling. It could not have been expected of one reared as he had been. But, singular as it may seem, beyond a vague longing, he felt no temptation to deprive old Ben of his money.
"Let him get what satisfaction he can from it," he said to himself. "I hope he'll keep it till he dies. I am only afraid that some night some one will see him counting the gold who will want to take it."
Tony went to bed again, and slept till six. Then he was awakened by a piteous groaning, which he soon found proceeded from the other bed.
"What's the matter?" he asked.
"Who's there?" demanded Ben, terrified.
"It's only I. Don't you remember you let me sleep here last night?"
"O, yes; I remember now. I'm sick; very sick."
"How do you feel?"
"I'm aching and trembling all over. Do youthink I am going to die?" he asked, with a startled look.
"Oh, no, I guess not," said Tony, reassuringly. "Everybody is sick now and then."
"I never felt so before," groaned Ben. "I'm an old man. Don't you think—don't you really think I shall die?"
He looked appealingly at Tony, as if the fiat of life and death lay with him.
Tony, of course, knew nothing of medicine or of diseases, but he had the sense to understand that the old man would be more likely to recover if his terror could be allayed, and he said, lightly:
"Oh, it's only a trifle. You've taken cold, very likely. A cup of hot tea would be good for you."
"I haven't any tea," groaned Ben. "It costs a great deal, and I'm very poor. I can't afford to buy it."
Tony smiled to himself, remembering the hoard of gold under the floor, but he would not refer to it, at least not at present.
"Are you sure you haven't got a little money?" he asked. "If you want to get well, you must be made comfortable."
"It's hard to be poor," whined Ben.
"I guess you've got some money," said Tony. "You'd better let me go to the store, and buy some tea and a fresh roll for you."
"How much will it cost?" asked Ben.
"I can get some bread, and tea, and sugar for thirty or forty cents," answered Tony.
"Forty cents! It's frightful!" exclaimed Ben. "I—I guess I'll do without it."
"Oh, well, if you prefer to lie there and die its none of my business," said Tony, rather provoked at the old man's perverse folly.
"But I don't want to die," whined Ben.
"Then do as I tell you."
Tony jumped out of bed, unrolled his coat, and put it on.
"Now," said he, "I'm ready to go for you, if you'll give me the money."
"But you may take it, and not come back," said the old man, suspiciously.
"If you think you can't trust me, you needn't," said Tony. "I've offered to do you a favor."
"I think I'll go myself," said Ben.
He tried to raise himself, but a twinge of pain compelled him to lie down again.
"No, I can't," he said.
"Well, do you want me to go for you?"
"Yes," answered Ben, reluctantly.
"Then give me the money."
Still more reluctantly Ben produced twenty-five cents from his pocket.
"Isn't that enough?" he asked.
"Better give me more," said Tony.
He produced ten cents more, and vowed it was all the money he had in the world.
Tony decided not to contradict his assertion, but to make this go as far as it would. He put on his hat and started out. He meant also to call at thedoctor's, and asked him to call round, for he thought it possible that the old man might be seriously sick.
First, however, he went to the grocery store, which had only just been opened, and obtained the articles which he had mentioned to Ben as likely to do him good.
Next he called at the house of the village doctor, obtaining the direction from the storekeeper. In a few words he made known his errand.
"Old Ben sick!" said Doctor Compton. "What's the matter with him?"
Tony explained how he appeared to be affected.
"How did you happen to be in his house?" asked the doctor, with curiosity. "You are not a relation of his, are you?"
Tony laughed.
"I don't think he would let me into the house if I were," he said. "He would be suspicious of me."
"Then how does it happen that you were with him?"
Tony explained.
"He has been repaid for taking you in," said the doctor. "I'll put on my hat, and go right over with you."
After Tony left the house, old Ben lay and tormented himself with the thought that the boy would never come back. "Just as like as not," he thought, "he will go off with the money, and leave me here to die."
Then he tried to sit up, but without success.
Half an hour later he was relieved by seeing the door open, and Tony enter. But he looked dismayed when he saw the doctor.
"What did you come for?" he asked, peevishly.
"To see what I can do for you, Mr. Hayden. Let me feel your pulse."
"But I can't afford to have a doctor. I am poor, and can't pay you," whined old Ben.
"We'll talk about that afterward."
"You can't charge when I didn't send for you."
"Make your mind easy. I won't charge for this visit. Let me feel your pulse."
Old Ben no longer opposed medical treatment, finding it would cost nothing.
"Am I going to die?" he asked, with an anxious look.
"You need nourishing food and care, that is all," was the reply. "You have had a chill, and you are reduced by insufficient food."
"I have some bread and tea here," said Tony.
"Do you know how to make the tea?" asked the doctor.
"Yes," said Tony.
"Then make a fire, and boil it at once. And, by the way, Mr. Hayden needs somebody to be with him for a few days. Can you stay with him and look after him?"
"If he will give me money enough to buy what he needs," said Tony.
"Will you do it, Mr. Hayden?" asked the doctor.
Old Ben whined that he was poor, and had no money, but the doctor interrupted him impatiently.
"That's all nonsense," he said. "You may not have much money, but you've got some, and you'll die if you don't spend some on yourself. If you don't agree to it, I shall advise this boy here to leave you to your fate. Then your only resource will be to go to the poor-house."
This proposal was not acceptable to Ben, who was unwilling to leave the house where his treasures were concealed. He therefore reluctantly acceded to the doctor's conditions, and Tony got his breakfast. Despite his sickness, he relished the tea and toast, and for the moment forgot what it cost.
"Well," thought Tony to himself with a smile, "I've got a situation as plain cook and housekeeper. I wonder how long it will last, and what'll come of it. I don't believe Rudolph will look for me here."
But in this Tony was mistaken.
Tony was not only cook and housekeeper, but he was sick-nurse as well. Nor were his duties easy. The main difficulty was about getting money to buy what was absolutely necessary. This was very aggravating, especially since Tony knew what he did about Ben's hidden treasure. Moreover, he had reason to suspect that Ben had more money concealed elsewhere.
One morning Tony went to Ben for money, saying:
"There isn't a scrap of food in the house, except a little tea."
"You can make some tea. That will do," said Ben.
"It may do for you, but it won't for me," said Tony, resolutely. "I ain't going to stay here to starve."
"It costs a sight to support two people," whined the old man.
"I don't know about that. I've only spent two dollars in six days. You don't call that much, do you?"
"Two dollars!" ejaculated the old man, terrified. "O, it's too much. I am ruined!"
"Are you?" said Tony, coolly. "Then all I can say is, you're easy ruined. I want half a dollar."
"I shan't give it to you," snarled Ben.
"Do you mean to starve?"
"I won't part with all I have. You are robbing me."
"That won't make much difference, as you'll be dead in three days," said Tony.
"What?" almost shrieked Ben, in dismay. "Who told you so? The doctor?"
"No."
"You ain't goin' to murder me, are you?"
"No; you are going to murder yourself."
"What do you mean?" demanded Ben, peevishly.
"You're not willing to buy anything to eat," explained Tony, "and you can't live above three days on nothing."
"Is that all? What made you frighten me so?" complained Ben, angrily.
"I only told you the truth. Are you going to give me the money?"
"Perhaps you'll tell me where I am to get so much money?" said Ben, in the same tone.
"I will tell you if you want me to," answered Tony.
"Where?" asked Ben, eagerly.
"Under the floor," returned Tony, composedly.
"What!" screamed Ben, in consternation.
"Just where I said. There's plenty of money under that plank."
"Who told you?" groaned the old man, livid with terror. "Have—have you taken any?"
"Not a dollar. It's all there. You needn't be frightened."
"Have you been spying when I was asleep?" demanded Ben, incensed.
"No, I haven't. That ain't my style," answered Tony, independently.
"You did. I know you did."
"Then you know too much."
"How could you find out, then?"
"If you want to know, I'll tell you. The first night I was here you got up in your sleep and took up the board. Then you drew out two bags of gold pieces and counted them."
"Oh, I'm ruined! I'm undone!" lamented Ben, when he found that his secret had been discovered.
"I don't see how you are."
"I shall be robbed. There's only a little there—only a few dollars to bury me."
"I guess you mean to have a tall funeral, then," said Tony, coolly. "There's as much as a thousand dollars there."
"No, no—only fifty," answered the old man.
"There's no use talking, I know better. If you don't believe it, suppose I take up the bags and count the pieces."
"No, no!"
"Just as you say. All is, you've got plenty of money, and I know it, and if you ain't willing to use some of it, I'll go off and leave you alone."
"Don't go," said Ben, hastily. "You're a good boy. You wouldn't rob a poor old man, would you?"
"Nor a rich old man either; but I don't mean tostarve. So give me fifty cents, and I'll go over to the store and get some fresh bread and butter, and tea and sugar."
"No matter about the butter. It costs too much."
"I want butter myself. My constitution requires it," said Tony. "You needn't eat it if you don't want to."
Ben groaned again, but he produced the money required, and Tony soon returned from the grocery store with small supplies of the articles he had named.
"Now we'll have some breakfast," said Tony, cheerfully. "Don't you feel hungry?"
"A—a little," acknowledged Ben, reluctantly. "I wish I wasn't. It costs so much to live."
"I don't think it costs you much," said Tony. "This morning I'm going to give you a boiled egg besides your tea and toast."
"Where did you get it?"
"I bought it at the store."
"I can't afford it," groaned the old man.
"You may as well eat it as it's here. I bought two, one for myself."
"How much did you pay?"
"Three cents for two."
Ben groaned again, but when breakfast was ready he showed an unusually good appetite, and did not refrain from partaking of the egg, expensive as it was.
Dr. Compton came in the next morning, and pronounced the old man better and stronger.
"Shall I be able to get up soon, doctor?" asked Ben.
"In a day or two, I think."
Ben heaved a sigh of relief.
"I'm glad of it," he said. "I can't afford to be sick."
"Has it cost you much?" asked the doctor, amused.
"It costs a sight to live. He eats a good deal," indicating Tony.
"He's a growing boy; but he's worth all he costs you. You'd better ask him to stay with you a few weeks, till your strength is entirely recovered."
"No, no; I can't afford it," said Ben, hastily. "He's a good boy; but he's very hearty—very hearty."
Tony laughed.
"Don't vex him, doctor," said our hero. "I'm tired of staying here. I want to get out on the road again. There isn't much fun in staying shut up here."
Ben looked relieved. He had feared that Tony would be reluctant to go.
"Right, boy," he said, "you're right. It's a dull place. You'll be better off to go."
"You have been lucky to have him here during your sickness," said the doctor. "Without his care, or that of some one else, you would probably have died."
"But I won't die now?" asked old Ben, anxiously, peering up into the doctor's face.
"Not at present, I hope. But you must live better than you have been accustomed to do or you will fall sick again."
"I shall be glad to get away," said Tony, hurriedly, to the doctor, outside of the house. "I'm used to tramping, and I can't stand it much longer. There's one thing I want to tell you before I go, and I might as well do it now."
"Go on, my boy."
"I'm afraid the old man will be robbed some time."
"Is there anything to steal?"
"Yes; I think I had better tell you about it."
Tony, in a low tone, imparted to Dr. Compton the discovery he had made of the old miser's hoards.
"I suspected as much," said the doctor. "I will do what I can to induce Ben to have the gold moved to a place of safety, but I don't feel confident of my ability to do it. Such men generally like to have their hoards within their own reach."
* * * * * *
Two nights later, Tony woke shortly after midnight. It was a bright, moonlight night, as on the first night he slept there. Again he saw Ben crouched on the floor, with the plank removed from its place, engaged in counting his hoards. The old man had recovered enough strength to get out of bed without assistance. This time, too, he was broad awake.
Tony was not the only witness of the spectacle. Casting his eyes toward the window he was startledby seeing a dark, sinister face, pressed against the pane, almost devouring the old man and his gold.
It was a face he well knew, and he trembled not alone for Ben, but for himself.
It was the face of Rudolph, the tramp.
"Has Rudolph tracked me, or is it only accident that has brought him here?"
This was the thought which naturally suggested itself to our hero, as in a very disturbed state of mind he stared at Rudolph through the uncertain light.
He decided that it was accident, for as yet the tramp did not appear to have discovered him. His eyes were fastened upon old Ben with unmistakable cupidity. It was the gold that attracted him, and between him and the possession of the gold it seemed as if there were no obstacle to intervene. What was the old man's feeble strength, more feeble still through disease, against this powerful man?
Tony felt the difficulties of the position. Not only would the gold be taken, but as soon as Rudolph discovered him, as he would, he too would fall into the power of the tramp.
Old Ben had not yet discovered the sinister face at the window. He was too busily occupied with his pleasant employment of counting over his gold for the hundredth time, it might be, to be aware of the dangerous witness at the window.
But he was speedily aroused by the noise of the window being raised from the outside.
Then he turned with a startled look which quickly deepened into astonishment and dismay as he caught the lowering look fixed upon him. There was more than this. There was recognition besides.
"You here?" he gasped, mechanically gathering up the gold in his trembling fingers, with the intention of replacing it in the bag.
"Yes, Ben, it's me," answered the tramp, with a sneer. "May I come in?"
"No, no!" ejaculated the old man, hastily.
"I think I must," returned the tramp, in the same mocking tone. "I came to see you as an old friend, but I never dreamed you were so rich. That's a pretty lot of gold you have there."
"Rich!" repeated Ben, with his usual whine. "I'm very poor."
"That looks like it."
"It's only a few dollars—enough to bury me."
"Very well, Ben, I'll take charge of it, and when you need burial I'll attend to it. That's fair, isn't it?"
Rudolph, who had paused outside, now raised the window to its full height, and despite the old man's terrified exclamations, bounded lightly into the room.
"Help! help! thieves!" screamed Ben, almost beside himself with terror, as he spread his feeble hands over the gold which he had so imprudently exposed.
"Hold your jaw, you driveling old idiot," said Rudolph, harshly, "or I'll give you something to yell about."
"Help, Tony, help!" continued the old man.
The tramp's eyes, following the direction of Ben's, discovered our hero on his rude bed in the corner of the room. A quick gleam of exultation shot from them as he made this discovery.
"Ho, ho!" he laughed with a mirth that boded ill to Tony, "so I've found you at last, have I? You served me a nice trick the other day, didn't you? I owe you something for that."
"I hoped I should never set eyes on you again," said Tony.
"I've no doubt you did. You undertook to run away from me, did you? I knew I should come across you sooner or later."
While this conversation was going on, Ben glanced from one to the other in surprise, his attention momentarily drawn away from his own troubles.
"Do you know this boy, Rudolph?" he inquired.
"I should think I did," answered the tramp, grimly. "You can ask him."
"Who is he?" asked Ben, evidently excited.
"What is that to you?" returned Rudolph. "It's a boy I picked up, and have taken care of, and this is his gratitude to me, and I've had a long chase to find him."
"Is this true?" asked Ben, turning to Tony.
"Some of it is true," said our hero. "I've been with him ever since I could remember, and I ran away because he wanted me to join him in robbing a house. He calls me his son sometimes, but I know he is not my father."
"How do you know?" demanded the tramp sternly.
"Didn't you say so just now?"
"It was none of the old man's business, and I did not care what I told him."
"There's something within me tells me that there's no relationship between us," said Tony, boldly.
"Is there, indeed," sneered the tramp. "Is there anything within you tells you you are going to get a good flogging?"
"No, there isn't."
"Then you needn't trust it, for that is just what is going to happen."
He advanced toward Tony in a threatening manner, when he was diverted from his purpose by seeing the old man hastily gathering up the gold with the intention of putting it away. Punishment could wait, he thought, but the gold must be secured now.
"Not so fast, Ben!" he said. "You must lend me some of that."
"I can't," said Ben, hurrying all the faster. "It's all I have, and I am very poor."
"I am poorer still, for I haven't a red to bless myself with. Come, I won't take all, but some I must have."
He stooped over, and began to grasp at the gold pieces, some of which were heaped up in piles upon the floor.
Even the weakest are capable of harm whenexasperated, and Ben, feeble as he was, was gifted with supernatural strength when he saw himself likely to lose the hoards of a lifetime, and his anger rose to fever heat against the scoundrel whom he had known years before to be utterly unprincipled.
With a cry like that of a wild beast he sprang upon the tramp, who, in his crouching position, was unable to defend himself against a sudden attack. Rudolph fell with violence backward, striking his head with great force against the brick hearth. Strong as he was, it was too much for him, and he lay stunned and insensible, with the blood gushing from a wound in his head.
The old man stood appalled at the consequence of his sudden attack.
"Have I killed him? Shall I be hanged?" he asked, with anguish.
"No, he's only stunned!" said Tony, springing over the floor with all his wits about him. "We have no time to lose."
"To run away? I can't leave my gold," said Ben.
"I don't mean that. We must secure him against doing us any harm when he recovers. Have you got some stout cord?"
"Yes, yes," said Ben, beginning to understand our hero's design. "Stay, I'll get it right away."
"You'd better, for he may come to any minute."
The old man fumbled round until in some out-of-the-way corner, where he had laid away a store of odds and ends, he discovered a quantity of stout cord.
"Will that do?" he asked.
"Just the thing," said Tony.
The boy set to work with rapid hands to tie the prostrate tramp hand and foot. He was only afraid Rudolph would rouse to consciousness while the operation was going on, but the shock was too great, and he had sufficient time to do the job effectually and well.
"How brave you are," exclaimed the old man, admiringly. "I wouldn't dare to touch him."
"Nor I if he were awake. I didn't think you were so strong. He went over as if he were shot."
"Did he?" asked the old man, bewildered. "I don't know how I did it. I feel as weak as a baby now."
"It's lucky for us you threw yourself upon him as you did. A little more cord, Mr. Hayden. I want to tie him securely. You'd better be gathering up that gold, and putting it away before he comes to."
"So I will, so I will," said Ben, hastily.
Scarcely was the money put away in its place of concealment, when the tramp recovered from his fit of unconsciousness, and looked stupidly around him. Then he tried to move, and found himself hampered by his bonds. Looking up, he met the terrified gaze of old Ben, and the steady glance of Tony. Then the real state of the case flashed upon him, and he was filled with an overpowering rage at the audacity of his late charge, to whom he rightly attributed his present humiliating plight.
"Let me up!" roared Rudolph, struggling vigorously with the cords that bound him.
Ben was terrified by his demonstration, and had half a mind to comply with his demand. But Tony had his wits about him, and felt that there was no safety in such a course.
"Don't you do it, Mr. Hayden!" he exclaimed, hastily.
"What! young jackanapes," said the tramp, scowling fiercely. "You dare to give him this advice?"
"Yes, I do," said Tony, boldly. "He will be a fool if he releases you."
"If he don't I'll kill him and you too," returned Rudolph.
"What shall I do?" added Ben, hopelessly.
He turned for advice to the boy, who was fifty years his junior. Strong and resolute spirits naturally assume the place of leading at any age.
"Do you know what he'll do if you untie him?" asked Tony.
"What will I do?" demanded Rudolph.
"You will steal this old man's money. It was what you were about to do when you fell over backwards."
"He threw me over," said the tramp, now gazing resentfully at Ben.
"I didn't mean to," said the terrified old man.
"You almost stunned me."
"I'm very sorry," stammered Ben.
"If you're very sorry, untie them cords and let me up."
"I didn't tie you."
"Who did?"
"The—the boy."
"Youdaredto do it?" exclaimed Rudolph, turning upon Tony with concentrated fury.
"Yes, I did," said Tony, calmly. "It was the only way to keep you out of mischief."
"Insolent puppy; if I only had my hands free I would strangle you both."
"You hear what he says?" said Tony, turning to old Ben. "Are you in favor of untying him now?"
"No, no!" exclaimed Ben, trembling. "He is a dreadful man. O, why did he come here?"
"I came for your gold, you fool, and I'll have it yet," said Rudolph, losing sight of all considerations of prudence.
"What shall I do?" asked the old man, wringing his hands in the excess of his terror.
"Let me up, and I won't hurt you," said the tramp, finding that he must control his anger for the present.
"Just now you said you would strangle the both of us, Rudolph."
"I'll strangle you, you cub, but I will do no harm to the old man."
"You will take his gold."
"No."
"Don't you trust him, Mr. Hayden," said Tony. "He will promise anything to get free, but he will forget all about it when he is unbound."
"I'd like to choke you!" muttered Rudolph, who meant thoroughly what he said.
"But what shall I do, Tony? I can't have him in here all the time."
"I'll go and call for help to arrest him," said Tony.
"And leave me alone with him?" asked Ben, terrified.
"No; we will lock the door, and you shall go and stay outside till I come back."
Tony's proposal was distasteful to Rudolph. He had a wholesome dread of the law, and didn't fancy the prospect of an arrest, especially as he knew that the testimony of Tony and the old man would be sufficient to insure him a prolonged term of imprisonment. He made a fresh and violent struggle which portended danger to his captors.
"Come out quick," said Tony, hastily. "It is not safe for you to stay here any longer."
The old man followed him nothing loth, and Tony locked the door on the outside.
"Do you think he will get free?" asked Ben, nervously.
"He may, and if he does there is no safety for either of us till he is caught again."
"The door is locked."
"But he may get out of the window."
"Oh, my gold! my gold!" groaned Ben. "He may get it."
"Yes, he may; our only hope is to secure him as soon as possible."
"I am so weak I can't go fast. I am trembling in every limb."
"You must conceal yourself somewhere, and let me run on," said Tony, with decision. "There is no time to be lost."
"I don't know of any place."
"Here's a place. You will be safe here till I come for you."
Tony pointed to an old ruined shed, which they had just reached.
"Will you be sure and come for me."
"Yes; don't be alarmed. Only don't show yourself till you hear my voice."
Ben crept into the temporary shelter, glad that in his weakened condition he should not be obliged to go any farther. To be sure he tormented himself with the thought that even now the desperate tramp might be robbing him of his treasures. Still he had great confidence in what Tony had told him, and hope was mingled with his terror.
"He's a brave boy," he murmured. "I am glad he was with me, though he does eat a sight. Oh, how many wicked men there are in the world."
Tony hurried on to the village, where he lost no time in arousing a sufficient number to effect thecapture of the burglar. He no longer felt any compunction in turning against his quondam guardian, recognizing him as his own enemy and the enemy of society.
"I owe him nothing," thought Tony. "What has he ever done for me? He is not my father. Probably he kidnapped me from my real home, and has made me an outcast and a tramp like himself. But I will be so no longer. I will learn a trade, or do something else to earn an honest livelihood. I mean to become a respectable member of society, if I can."
It took him half an hour before he could rouse the half-dozen men whom he considered necessary to effect the arrest and get them under way.
Meanwhile Rudolph was not idle.
It may be thought strange that he should have so much difficulty in freeing himself from the cords with which Tony had bound him. But it must be remembered that the boy had done his work well. The cord was stout and strong, and he had had time to tie it in many knots, so that even if one had been untied, the tramp would have found himself almost as far from liberty as ever.
After he had been locked in, Rudolph set about energetically to obtain release. He succeeded in raising himself to his feet, but as his ankles were tied together this did not do him much good. By main strength he tried to break the cords, but the only result was to chafe his wrists.
"What a fool I am," he exclaimed at length."The old man must have some table-knives about somewhere. With these I can cut the cords."
It was not till some time had elapsed, however, that this very obvious thought came to him. Further time was consumed in finding the knives. When found, they—there were two—proved so dull that even if he had had free use of one of his hands it would not have been found easy to make them of service. But when added to this was the embarrassment of his fettered hands, it will not excite surprise that it required a long time to sever the tough cords which bound him. But success came at length.
His arms were free, and he stretched them with exultation.
His ankles next demanded attention, but this was a much easier task.
"Now for revenge!" thought the tramp. "The boy shall rue this night's task, or my name is not Rudolph."
Whatever else he might do, he must secure the miser's gold. He had seen the hiding-place.
He removed the plank, and there, beneath him, visible in the moonlight, lay the much-coveted bags of golden treasure.
He rose from the floor, and, with the bags in his hand, jumped out of the still opened window.
But he was too late. Two strong men seized him, each by an arm, and said, sternly:
"You are our prisoner."