AS TOM plodded along beside his employer, who did not deign to utter a word, he could not help doubting whether he had done wisely in selling his independence for twelve dollars a week. Had he understood Burnett’s real character and disposition, he would not have engaged with him. As matters stood he thought it best to remain for the present in his service.

“Mr. Burnett may be annoyed about something, and that may be the reason of his being so cross,” Tom reflected. “To-morrow he may be different.”

Tom was destined soon to be undeceived, and in a manner far from pleasant.

The wood through which they were passing was about a mile in width. When they had reached the middle point, Burnett halted.

“Stop here!” said he.

Tom looked at him in surprise. He could not conceive of any reason for stopping, unless, indeed, Mr. Burnett was tired, which was hardly probable, as they had scarcely walked a mile.

“Stop here?” he said, interrogatively.

“That is what I said.”

“Very well, sir. Shall we sit down?”

There was a fallen tree lying beside the road, or rather lane, through which they were walking, and Tom made a motion to sit down.

“Never mind about sitting down,” said Burnett, with an incomprehensible smile. “I want to transact a little business with you.”

Tom was getting more and more at a loss to comprehend his companion’s meaning, but he only said:

“Very well.”

“How much money have you?” demanded Burnett.

“What do you mean?” asked Tom, with quick suspicion.

“You seem very stupid. Whatever money you have with you you may give to me. Do you hear?”

“I prefer to keep it myself,” said Tom, firmly.

“And I consider it safer in my hands. Hand it over.”

“I do not choose to, Mr. Burnett,” said Tom, resolutely.

“Do you dare refuse?” demanded Burnett, angrily. “Am I not your master?”

“No, sir; I have no master.”

“I pay you wages. I am your employer. That is the same thing.”

“It seems to me you want me to pay you wages,” said Tom, shrewdly.

“Don’t bandy words with me, boy; I won’t allow it. Give me your money, and that quickly!”

Burnett’s purpose was now plain to Tom. The man wanted to rob him. For that purpose he had inveigled him into this lonely place, where there was little chance of his obtaining assistance. He must depend upon himself, but the chances of success were not flattering.

He was a strong boy, but Mr. Burnett was several inches taller, and had a man’s strength, against which he had not much chance in a struggle. If only somebody would come along. Perhaps, if he could only prolong the conversation, some one might appear. It seemed to be the only thing he could do.

“Do you mean to rob me, Mr. Burnett?” he asked, retreating slightly.

“Well, there is no use in mincing words. That is precisely my intention.”

“And was that the reason why you engaged me to go with you!”

“You’ve hit it, boy. Do you think I am such a fool as to pay you twelve dollars a week just to carry that little satchel?”

Tom began to suspect he was a fool.

It didn’t seem reasonable that any man should be willing to pay such a salary for so small a service.

“You told me the contents were valuable,” he said.

“You thought it was full of watches and jewelry,” laughed Burnett.

“Yes. Didn’t you tell me so?”

“To be sure I told you so. But you must not believe all you hear, youngster.”

“I am not to believe you, then?”

“Not when I have a purpose to serve; but we have talked long enough. Give me your money.” Tom was pale with excitement, but his lips closed resolutely. He realized the unfortunate plight in which he would be placed if he should part with the money he had reserved for the expenses of his journey. He would be compelled to give up his project, and go home, if he were able to get home without money.

“I won’t allow you to rob me,” he said, firmly.

“Then,” said Burnett, with an oath, “you must take the consequences.”

He rushed upon Tom, and a contest ensued, in which Tom exerted himself to the best of his ability, but, as might be supposed, he was not a match for a strong man. Burnett threw him down, and by force possessed himself of our hero’s money.

“Now,” he said, “I will trouble you for that watch.”

That was one pang the more. Tom was proud of his watch. Moreover, he valued it not a little because it was a gift from a man who had been pleased with his conduct. He regarded it, therefore, much as a schoolboy regards a school-prize.

“Mr. Burnett,” he said, “you have my money, and I don’t know what I am going to do without it, more than a thousand miles from home. Leave me my watch at least.”

“Sorry I can’t oblige you,” said Burnett, with an evil smile. “I want the watch myself.”

“You must take it yourself, then, for I won’t give it to you.”

“That is what I propose to do,” said Burnett, coolly, and he removed the watch in spite of Tom’s resistance. “Is that all?” asked Tom, desperately, “or would you like my coat also?”

“No, I will leave that. It wouldn’t fit me.”

“I suppose I ought to be thankful for that,” said Tom, bitterly.

“No occasion to thank me. This is business.”

“A very mean business,” retorted Tom.

“Don’t use your tongue too much, my young friend, or I might get mad, and give you something to remember.”

“You have given me something to remember.”

Burnett smiled.

“One more little operation, and I will bid you good-night.”

He drew from his pocket a strong cord and proceeded to tie Tom’s hands.

“What are you doing?” asked Tom, struggling.

“I don’t mean that you shall follow me. To-morrow morning some one will come along and release you.”

Percy Burnett had nearly accomplished his task, despite Tom’s resistance, when both he and Tom were startled by the voice of one apparently close at hand:

“What are you about, you scoundrel?”

Percy Burnett turned his head suddenly, and his face paled, as he saw in the twilight a man ten paces distant, holding in his hand a revolver.

He jumped to his feet.