My heart sank within me. In another moment the deception I had practised would be known—and then?
He fumbled in his pocket and drew forth the envelope. He could not extract the letter he supposed it contained with one hand very well, and so lowered the pistol for a moment.
This was my chance. Unarmed I was evidently in his power. If I could only escape from the tool house!
The door still stood partly open, and the darkness of night—for the moon had gone down—was beyond. A dash and I would be outside. Still the tramp stood between me and liberty. Should I attack him or endeavor to slip to one side?
I had but an instant to think; another, and it would be too late. John Stumpy was fumbling in the envelope. His eyes were searching for the precious document.
With a single bound I sprang against him, knocking him completely off his feet. Then I made another jump for the door.
But he was too quick for me. Dropping the envelope and the pistol, he caught me by the foot, and in an instant both of us were rolling on the floor.
It was an unequal struggle. Strong as I was for a boy of my age, I was no match for this burly man. Turn and twist all I could, he held me in his grip while he heaped loud imprecations upon my head.
In our movements on the floor we came in contact with the lantern and upset it, smashing the frame as well as the glass.
For a moment darkness reigned. Then a tiny light from the corner lit up the place. The flames had caught the shavings.