“Why,” said Bob, in great surprise, “what has become of the satchels?”
He could see the man in the lead about two hundred yards away, as he jumped into a ditch and was gone from sight. The tramp was putting after him as fast as he could. One thing was sure: neither of them had the satchels.
“Where could they have gone to?” Bob asked himself.
He ran to the road. The tramp was standing in the middle of it, at a loss where to go. The other man was nowhere to be seen. Finally the tramp ran into some woods lining the road, on a search for the man who had run away from him.
Frank, who had kept track of Bob in cautious stages, came up to him now.
“Where are they?” he asked.
“Somewhere in the woods,” answered Bob. “They have had a quarrel.”
“Yes, I noticed it.”
“We couldn’t do much if we caught up to them. Hark, Frank!”
Down the road beyond the schoolhouse echoed the sound of horses’ hoofs and wagon wheels.