"Who is this fellow?" asked young Short doggedly, after a little silence.
"Fred Worthington," answered De Vere bitterly. "I'll show him that he can't interfere with me."
"Fred Worthington!" echoed Tim; and he stopped short where he was.
"I think we had better get some good clubs," said De Vere.
"And then we will get the worst of it," replied Tim. "I know Fred Worthington too well to take any chances on him."
"But we will jump out upon him when he is not expecting us," urged Matthew.
It was hard work to screw Tim's courage up to the necessary point, but his sense of obligation to Matthew finally overcame his well founded fears of Fred Worthington's strong arms, and he promised to take part in the disappointed rival's dastardly plot.
The point to which De Vere led his rascally associate was close beside the path along which Fred Worthington would have to pass on his way home from Dr. Dutton's. Although not far beyond the limits of the village, it was a lonely spot, with no houses near by, and the two young highwaymen could not have found a more suitable place to put their cruel design into execution.
Crouching behind the bushes, the cowardly pair lay in wait, each grasping a heavy stick in his hand, ready to dart out and rain revengeful blows upon their innocent victim.