At the same instant came a whip-poor-will cry. In the excitement, however, the young man did not notice it.
Casco rushed in, and knocked up Frank’s weapon, at the same time uttering the same whistle he had used on the hotel piazza.
Knowing that this was a call for help, Frank tried to run away. Casco promptly tripped him up and then came down on the young man.
“Do you give in?” he demanded.
“No,” returned Frank, firmly.
Without ado the scar-faced man brought down his club upon Frank’s head. It was a vicious blow, well directed, and with a groan the young man fell back insensible.
“He’ll not worry me again, I reckon,” muttered Casco, as he surveyed the inanimate form before him. “I suppose I might as well go through him now I have the chance. By Jove, this is starting on the new career for certain! No backing out after this.”
Casco bent over Frank’s form, and began a rapid search of his victim’s pockets. He brought to light a roll of bills amounting to seventy dollars, a number of letters and documents, and several things of less importance.
“A pretty good haul,” muttered the thief.
Just then the bushes parted, and one of the men wearing a slouch hat came over the fence.