So it was agreed, and with their bags of nuts over their shoulders they hurried in the direction where they had located the bully and his cronies.
As they surmised, the party had poached on a private preserve, and the owner of the place, a hot-tempered old gentleman from Syracuse, and his three workmen, had caught them red-handed, with their bags loaded with the choicest kind of nuts.
To their consternation the old gentleman at first threatened to shoot the evil-doers, at which Mumps fell on his knees and begged for mercy. Then he ordered them to place all their nuts in a heap on the ground.
“Now, I’ll let you off on one condition,” he said, sternly.
“What condition?” asked Paxton.
“Oh, I’ll do anything!” howled the sneak of the Hall. “Only don’t have me arrested.”
“If the three of you will pick for me a full bushel of nuts I will let you all go,” said the owner of the preserve.
“Humph!” grumbled Baxter. “Aren’t you satisfied to rob us of those we have already picked?”
“I cannot rob you of what is already mine, young man.”
“I’ll pick nuts for you,” said Mumps, eagerly.