Without saying or doing anything to attract the boy's notice, the two friends slipped up behind him, and Arthur threw his arms over his shoulders.
"Now, you runaway, give an account of yourself!" he exclaimed.
The effect produced by these innocent words was surprising in the extreme. In less than a second the supposed Roy Sheldon proved that he was quite as muscular as he looked to be. Uttering a cry of surprise and alarm he doubled himself up like a jack-knife and lunged forward with all his strength, and then almost as quickly jerked himself backward. By the first movement he came within a hair's breadth of throwing Arthur Hastings heavily on his head; and by the second he slipped out of his grasp like an eel. Then he straightened up and faced him with clenched hands and flashing eyes.
"Don't touch me!" he began, fiercely. "If you or any of your hirelings lay an ugly finger on me again—"
When he had said this much he stopped and looked hard at Arthur and then at Joe, while an expression of great astonishment settled on his face. My master and his friend were equally amazed. That was Roy Sheldon's uniform, if they ever saw it, but it wasn't Roy who was in it, although he looked almost exactly like him. There were the same clear-cut features, hazel eyes and wavy brown hair, and the same faint suspicion of a mustache; but they did not belong to Roy Sheldon. A second look showed them that.
"Who are you?" demanded the young fellow, at length.
"I think that is a proper question for us to ask you," replied Arthur, who, having never before been handled so easily by any boy of his size, felt disposed to resent it. "What are you doing in our uniform, we'd be pleased to have you tell us."
"Your uniform!" exclaimed the stranger eagerly. "Are you from Jamestown?"
"No. Never heard of such a place about here. Don't even know where it is. We are from Mount Airy."
"Then we are even," said the stranger, in a disappointed tone, "for I don't know where Mount Airy is."