"You are asking too much," he said. "We have given you a meal. We need the rest for ourselves."
"No palavering, boy!" said the tramp roughly. "I need it more than you do. Give it to me, or I will kill you."
"If I only had some weapon," thought Harry.
While he was hesitating, the tramp with a quick movement sprang to where he stood, clutched him by the collar, and flinging him on his back put his knee on his breast, saying between his closed teeth, "Now I will kill you, young jackanapes! I'll teach you to interfere with me."
Poor Harry thought his last moment had come. He was powerless against his enemy, whose wild rage, shown in his distorted features, seemed capable of anything. His sole helper was Jack, who flung himself on the giant, and sought with his boyish strength to pull him away, but in vain.
"I'll choke the life out of you, you young beast!" exclaimed the tramp, preparing to clutch Harry by the throat. The moment was a critical one for the poor boy, whose career came near ending then and there.
But assistance came when least expected.
A man who had approached, unseen by either of the three, jumped from the underbrush and with one powerful blow sent the tramp sprawling on the ground beside his intended victim.
"You're rather out of your reckoning, you mean skunk!" he exclaimed. "If there's any killin' to be done round here, I'm goin' to do it."
"Obed Stackpole!" ejaculated the boys in heartfelt delight, and they were rushing forward to greet him, but he waved them back.