The tramp hunted about for a stone to throw at the boy, but in that part of the West stones are not as plenty as in New England, and his kind intentions were frustrated.
"Perhaps you think I'll go away after a while," he said presently, "but that's where you make a mistake. I will stay here all night, if necessary."
He looked as if he would really carry out his threat, and Robert, it must be admitted, in spite of his coolness of demeanor, began to feel anxious.
"What an obstinate ruffian!" he thought. "If he keeps his word, it will be decidedly uncomfortable for me."
"Will no one come along?"
That was the thought that kept recurring to him. It seemed to offer the only means of escape.
At last he heard wheels, and was thankful. So did the tramp, and felt uneasy. But when the carriage came along it turned out to contain a woman and young boy. It would do no good to hail them, for they could not help him, and the tramp might be led to attack and rob them. So Robert was constrained to let the carriage pass, and to find himself once more in solitude with the tramp.
"You did well not to speak," said the latter, grimly. "If you had I would have robbed her, too."
"Just what I thought," returned Robert. "That seems to be your business."