"We ought to break your head for that trick," said the duke, "and if it had done you any good we'd do so; but we understand it. You flung the money away when you made a rush for the fence."
"If I did," was the defiant response of the boy, "all you've got to do is to find it again."
"We'll soon do that; hold him fast till I get it, and then we'll settle with him."
The tousled scamp shuffled off to the side of the highway to search for the package, which he was convinced had been thrown there at the time their prisoner made his dash for freedom.
"That'll prove bad bus'ness for you," growled the duke, who was the custodian of Tom.
"Not any worse than if you had got it," replied the youth, who was thoroughly roused by his brutal treatment. He had been struck several times, but could not believe the ruffians would dare put him to death in revenge for the loss of the money, that is, provided they did recover it.
"Haven't you found it, Dick?" called the duke, forgetting the title of his comrade.
"No, confound it! I don't know where to look for it."
"Where did you fling it?" demanded the duke of his captive.
"I shall not tell you; you may kill me first."