“And do you think I’m going to give up to you, you renegade?” cried the squire. He moved to lay his hand on the basket; but there was something in Lion’s growl he didn’t like. “I’ll beat that beast’s brains out, if he offers to touch me!” he exclaimed, grasping his cane menacingly.
“I advise you not to try that little thing,” said Jack. “If you should miss your stroke, where would you be the next minute?”
The squire thought of that. His tone changed slightly.
“I don’t leave this spot till I git possession of that money!”
“All right, Squire. Sit down,—you’d better. You’ll have some time to stop, I guess. Have a peach?” And the audacious little wretch took one out of his coat-pocket. “We shall need refreshments before we get through!” As Peternot indignantly declined the proffered fruit, Jack quietly broke it open, and ate, with a relish, the rich yellow pulp. The old man accepted the invitation to sit down, however, and reposed his stiff old limbs on the end of the hollow log, not clearly foreseeing how this little adventure was to end.
CHAPTER IX
THE SQUIRE’S PERPLEXITY AND JACK’S STRATAGEM.
A little calm reflection opened the squire’s mind to a ray of light which would certainly have dawned upon it before, had not his wits been clouded by passion. “Boy!” he suddenly exclaimed, “I believe every dollar of that money is bogus.”
“Then what’s the use of making a row over it?” was the boy’s cool retort.