“I’ll half murder you when I get hold of you,” he growled, in a tone that bodied ill for Carl.
The latter began to pant, and felt that he could not hold out much longer. Should he surrender at discretion?
“If some one would only come along,” was his inward aspiration. “This man will take my money and beat me, too.”
As if in reply to his fervent prayer the small figure of Mr. Jennings appeared suddenly, rounding a curve in the road.
“Save me, save me, Mr. Jennings!” cried Carl, running up to the little man for protection.
“What is the matter? Who is this fellow?” asked Mr. Jennings, in a deep voice for so small a man.
“That tramp wants to rob me.”
“Don’t trouble yourself! He won’t do it,” said Jennings, calmly.