Jack might have waded back again across the ditch without inflicting much additional damage upon his already wet and miry clothing; but he fancied that Walter was in his power, and hoped he would capitulate. To this end, he saw that it was necessary to reassure him, and deceive him as to his own intentions.

"Come across, boy," he said, softening his tone. "You needn't be afraid. I didn't mean nothing. I was only tryin' to see if I couldn't frighten you a little."

"I'm very well off where I am," said Walter. "I think I'll stay where I am."

"You won't want to stay there all day."

"I'd rather stay here all day than be on the same side with you."

"You needn't be afraid."

"I am not afraid," said Walter.

"You think I want to hurt you."

"I think I am safer on this side."

"Come, boy, I'll make a bargain with you. You've put me to a good deal of trouble."

"I don't see that."

"You locked me up in the closet, and you've kept me all night huntin' after you."

"You were not obliged to hunt after me, and as for locking you up in the closet, it was the only way I had of saving my money."

Jack did not care to answer Walter's argument, but proceeded: "Now I've got you sure, but I'll do the fair thing. If you'll come across and pay me ten dollars for my trouble, I'll let you go without hurtin' you."

"What's to prevent you taking all my money, if you get me over there?"

"Haven't I said I wouldn't?"

"You might forget your promise," said Walter, whose confidence in Jack's word was by no means great. A man who would steal probably would not be troubled by many scruples on the subject of violating his word.

"If you don't come, I'll take every cent, and give you a beating beside," said Jack, his anger gaining the ascendency.

"Well, what are you goin' to do about it?" demanded Jack, after a brief pause.

"I'll stay where I am."

"I can come over any time, and get hold of you."

"Perhaps you can," said Walter. "I'll take the risk."

"I'll wait a while," thought Jack. "He'll come round after a while."

He sat down, and taking a clay pipe from his pocket, filled the bowl with tobacco, and commenced smoking. Walter perceived that he was besieged, but kept cool, and clung to his plank, which was his only hope of safety. He began to speculate as to the length of time the besieging force would hold out. He was already hungry, and there was a prospect of his being starved into a surrender, or there would have been, if luckily his opponent had not been also destitute of provisions. In fact, the besieging party soon became disorganized from this cause. A night in the open air had given keenness to Jack's appetite, and he felt an uncomfortable craving for food.

"I wish Meg would come along," he muttered. "I feel empty."

But Meg did not come. She stood for a few minutes in the edge of the woods, and watched her husband's pursuit of Walter. She saw his failure to overtake his intended victim, and this made her easier in her mind. I do not wish to represent her as better than she was. Her anxiety was chiefly for her husband. She did not wish him to commit any act of violence which would put him without the pale of the law. It was this consideration, rather than a regard for Walter's safety, that influenced her, though she felt some slight interest in our hero. She went home, feeling that she could do no good in staying. Jack resented her disappearance.

"She might know I wanted some breakfast," he growled to himself. "As long as she gets enough to eat herself, she cares little for me."

This censure was not deserved. Meg was not a good woman, but she was devoted to the coarse brute whom she called husband, and was at any time ready to sacrifice her own comfort to his.

Two hours passed, and still besieger and besieged eyed each other from opposite sides of the bank. Jack grew more and more irritable as the cravings of his appetite increased, and the slight hope that Meg might appear with some breakfast was dissipated. Walter also became more hungry, but showed no signs of impatience.

At this time a boy was seen coming across the meadow. Jack espied him, and the idea struck him that he might through him lay in a stock of provisions.

"Come here, boy," he said. "Where do you live?"

The boy pointed to a small farm-house half a mile distant.

"Do you want to earn some money?"

"I dunno," said the boy, who had no objections to the money, but, knowing Jack's shady reputation, was in doubt as to what was expected of him.

"Go home, and get a loaf of bread and some cold meat, and bring me, and I'll give you half a dollar."

"Didn't you bring your luncheon?" asked the boy.

"No, I came away without it, and I can't spare time to go back."

It occurred to the boy, noticing Jack's lazy posture, that business did not appear to be very driving with the man whose time was so valuable.

"Perhaps mother won't give me the bread and meat," he said.

"You can give her half the money."

The boy looked across to Walter, wondering what kept him on the other side. Our hero saw a chance of obtaining help.

"I'll give you a dollar," he called out, "if you'll go and tell somebody that this man is trying to rob me of all my money. I slept in his house last night, and he tried to rob me there. Now he will do the same if he can get hold of me."

"If you tell that, I'll wring your neck," exclaimed Jack. "It's all a lie. The boy slept at my house, as he says, and stole some money from me. He escaped, but I'm bound to get it back if I stay here all day."

"That is not true," said Walter. "Carry my message, and I will give you a dollar, and will, besides, reward the men that come to my assistance." The boy looked from one to the other in doubt what to do.

"If you want your head broke, you'll do as he says," said Jack, rather uneasy. "He won't pay what he promises."

"You shall certainly be paid," said Walter.

"You'd better shut up, or it'll be the worse for you," growled Jack. "Go and get my breakfast quick, boy, and I'll pay you the fifty cents."

"All right," said the boy, "I'll go."

He turned, but when he was behind Jack, so that the latter could not observe him, he made a sign to Walter that he would do as he wished.

Fifteen minutes later Jack rose to his feet. An idea had occurred to him. At the distance of a furlong there was a rail-fence. It occurred to him that one of these rails would enable him to cross the ditch, and get at his victim. He was not afraid Walter would escape, since he could easily turn back and capture him if he ventured across.

Walter did not understand his design in leaving the ditch. Was it possible that he meant to raise the siege? This seemed hardly probable. He watched, with some anxiety, the movements of his foe, fearing some surprise.

When Jack reached the fence, and began to pull out one of the rails he understood his object. His position was evidently becoming more dangerous.

Jack came back with a triumphant smile upon his face.

"Now, you young cub," he said, "I've got you!"

Walter watched him warily, and lowered the plank, ready to convert it into a bridge as soon as necessary. Jack put down the rail. It was long enough to span the ditch, but was rather narrow, so that some caution was needful in crossing it. Walter had moved several rods farther up, and thrown the plank across. Though his chances of escape from the peril that menaced him seemed to have diminished since his enemy was also provided with a bridge and it became now a question of superior speed, Walter was not alarmed. Indeed his prospects of deliverance appeared brighter than ever, for he caught sight of two men approaching across the meadow, and he suspected that they were sent by the boy whom he had hired. These men had not yet attracted the attention of Jack, whose back was turned towards them. He crossed the rail, and, at the same time, Walter crossed the plank. This he threw across, and then, leaving it on the bank, set out on a quick run.

"Now I'll catch him," thought Jack, with exultation; but he quickly caught sight of our hero's reinforcements. He saw that his game was up, and he abandoned it. His reputation was too well known in the neighborhood for the story he had told to the boy to gain credence. He was forced to content himself with shaking his fist at Walter, and then, in discomfiture, returned to the woods, where he made up for his disappointment by venting his spite on Meg. She would have fared worse, had he known that Walter had found his way out of the wood through her guidance.