"You'll pay for this, boy," he growled. "Just let me catch you."
But Ernest did not mean to be caught. Being a fast runner for a boy of his size, he bade fair to out-distance 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."
There was a brief struggle, but a boy, even a strong boy, was no match for a man taller and heavier than himself. The gold pieces were snatched from him, and the tramp, releasing his hold, was about to make off in triumph when he found himself seized in turn.
"Why, you contemptible thief!" exclaimed Luke Robbins, for it was he whose opportune coming had saved Ernest from being plundered. "Are you trying to rob the boy?"
He seized the tramp by the collar, forced him to give up the gold he had just snatched from Ernest, and flung him on his back.
The tramp's surprise deepened to dismay when, looking up, he saw the stalwart hunter with stern face looking down upon him.
"It was my money," he whined.
"Your money, you owdacious liar! Don't tell me that or I'll treat you worse."
"But it was. I had hidden it under a tree. I came along just as the boy dug it up. I told him to give it to me, for it was mine, but he wouldn't, and then I chased him."