"I will."
"You had better keep out of sight—if those Rovers are on your trail."
"Trust me to lay low," said Baxter with a short laugh.
In another moment the former bully of Putnam Hall found himself alone.
Sack Todd had galloped off at a high rate of speed.
"He is certainly an odd sort," mused Baxter. "But I guess he means to do right by me, or he wouldn't lend me a twenty so readily. He must be used to handling big money, by the roll of bills he carried. I wish I possessed such a roll. There must have been several hundred dollars in it, at least."
He felt to make sure that the bill was safe in his pocket, and then continued on his journey. Several times he looked back, but he could see nothing of the Rover boys or their friends.
Dan Baxter felt particularly downcast and desperate. Since the capture of Lew Flapp, he had been without a companion in whom to confide, and the peculiar loneliness among utter strangers was beginning to tell on him. This was one reason why he had told Sack Todd so much of his story.
Coming to the end of the timber and brush-wood, he saw, lying before him in something of a valley, the town of Cottonton, consisting of several well laid out streets and an outlying district of pretty homes. At a distance was the regular road, but so far his enemies were not in sight.
The ride had made Baxter hungry and, reaching the town, he lost no time in hunting up a modest restaurant on a side street, where, he hoped, the Rovers would not find him.
"What can you give me for dinner?" he asked. "I want something good."