"I don't think Jefferson would make a very efficient protector," said his mother.
"You don't know how brave I am, mother," said Jeff, in the tone of an injured hero.
"No, I don't," said his mother, smiling. "I believe there was a time when you were not very heroic in the company of dogs."
"That's long ago, mother. I've got over it now."
"If you would like to ride over with your friend, you may do so. But how will you get back?"
"Major Pinkham will be up there this afternoon. I can wait, and ride home with him."
"Very well; I have no objection."
The two boys rode off together. Harry was glad to have a companion who knew the road well, for he did not care to be lost again till he had delivered up the money which he had in charge. There was no opportunity to test Jeff's courage, for the highwayman did not make his appearance. Indeed, it was not till the next morning that he discovered the serious blunder he had made in leaving his own wallet behind, and, though he was angry and disgusted, prudential considerations prevented his going back. He was forced to the unpleasant conviction that he had overreached himself, and that his intended victim had come out best in the "exchange" which "was no robbery." I may as well add here that, though he deserved to be caught, he was not, and Harry has never, to this day, set eyes either upon him or upon the coat.
When Harry arrived at Pentland, he found that no little anxiety had been felt about him.
"Has Harry come yet?" asked the sick man, at ten o'clock the evening previous.