“You’d better be careful how you talk!” said Burns, menacingly.
“Then all I can say is that you have told a falsehood. You are the man, I suppose, who entered our cabin at night and stole money out of a trunk.”
“I don’t know anything about your trunk!” said Burns. “But I have no time to talk; I want that money!”
Ernest looked about him, hoping to see some one to whom he could appeal for help, but no one appeared in sight. Next he looked at the tramp, to note if he were armed. To his relief, Burns did not appear to have any weapon with him.
“I won’t give up the money to a thief!” he said boldly.
As he spoke he turned and ran as fast as he was able.
Winged with fear of losing his gold, Ernest flew rather than ran, not heeding the direction he was taking. The tramp accepted the challenge and put forth his utmost speed in the hope of overtaking him.
“You’ll pay for this, boy!” he growled.
But Ernest did not mean to be caught. Being a fast runner for a boy of his size, he bade fair to outdistance his pursuer. But directly in his path was an excavation of considerable size and depth. Ernest paused on the brink to consider whether to descend the sloping sides or to go round it. The delay was fatal. The tramp saw his advantage, and pushing forward seized him by the collar.
“I’ve caught you!” he cried triumphantly. “Now give me the money!”