There was no moon, but the stars were brightly twinkling, when Toney, Tom, and the Professor started, in company with Wiggins and M. T. Pate, on a pedestrian excursion to the mansion of Samuel Crabstick, situated at a distance of about two miles from the town of Bella Vista. They had proceeded some distance when they came to a rustic stile which had been erected over a fence on the side of the main road, and from which a path led through a field into a forest. Toney seated himself on the stile and proposed that they should diverge from the main road and follow the path across the field; saying that it was the most direct route to their place of destination.

"I would prefer the main road," said Pate. "It is more circuitous; but there is no moon, and it will be very dark in yonder forest. We will have difficulty in finding our way through it."

"Not at all," said Toney, "I know every foot of the path, which runs in a straight line to the place we are going."

"Then, let us take the path," said the Professor. "When beauty is the attraction I always want to make a bee-line for her abode."

"That is in accordance with natural laws," said Toney. "Who ever saw pyrites of iron taking a circuitous route to the magnet? Ida is the magnet. Is it not so, Tom?"

Tom nodded assent.

"And we are the pyrites," said the Professor. "Let us go straight to the attraction, and not be acting contrary to the laws of nature."

Pate was overcome by these arguments, and, ascending the stile, was about to pursue that path, when Toney called out,—

"Don't be in a hurry, Mr. Pate. We have plenty of time."

"In fact, it is too early yet for a serenade," said the Professor. "We should wait until the young lady has put on her nightcap. If we wake her out of her first nap, when she has been wandering in the fairy-land of dreams, her impression will be that angels are singing around her window."

"That is so," said Toney. "Let us wait. I have a proposition to make."

"What is that?" asked the Professor.

"Here we are going on a serenade," said Toney. "Now, I move that each man furnish evidence of his musical accomplishments by singing a song. Let Mr. Pate lead off."

"A song from Mr. Pate!" cried the Professor.

"A song from Mr. Pate!" shouted Seddon.

"Mr. Pate will now sing," said Toney.

Thus urged, Pate seated himself, and in loud if not mellifluous tones sang as follows:

"Mr. Pate," said the Professor, "if you wake the young lady up by warbling that melody under her window, she will think that you are an angel of magnificent proportions and tremendous vocal powers. Now, Mr. Wiggins, it is your turn."

Wiggins cleared his throat and sang the following ditty:

"Indeed, Mr. Wiggins, you must not warble that song under the young lady's window," said the Professor.

"I do not intend to do so," said Wiggins.

"I am glad of that," said the Professor, "for if you did she would imagine that you were some fallen angel on a midnight peregrination. And now, Toney, let us hear from you."

Toney sang:

"Toney," said the Professor, "when the young lady hears that she will suppose that the spirit of a troubadour is warbling under her window. And now, Mr. Seddon."

Tom sang:

"Mr. Seddon, the young lady will be persuaded that you are a twin brother to the troubadour," said the Professor.

"And now, Charley," said Toney, "we are waiting to hear you warble."

The Professor sang:

"How do you expect her to see in the dark?" said Toney.

"Oh, she must have patience and wait until morning," said the Professor.

The serenaders now arose from their seats, and, proceeding across the field, soon entered the forest, which was traversed in various directions by paths made by the cattle that were accustomed to browse on the bushes. The path pursued by the party soon led them to a spot where the foliage was dense, and, entirely excluding the starlight, enveloped them in gloomy darkness. Tom Seddon now exclaimed,——

"Toney, why did you select this road? Let us go back. This is the very spot where a man was found, not long ago, with his throat cut, and three bullet-holes through his head."

"Horrible!" exclaimed Pate.

"Let us go back!" cried Wiggins.

"Numerous robberies and murders have been committed in this forest," said Tom. "In fact, it is infested by a gang of desperadoes. If we go on, none of us may ever return to Bella Vista alive."

"Oh! oh!" groaned Pate.

"Let us go back!" exclaimed Wiggins,—"I will not—ugh!"

There was a sudden flash from the bushes, followed by a loud report, and poor Tom dropped dead at the feet of M. T. Pate. Before a word could be uttered, another shot was fired, and Toney staggered against a tree and then fell to the ground with a groan.

"Run!—run!" exclaimed Pate.

"Run!—run!—run!" cried Wiggins.

"Run!—run!—run!—run!" said the Professor, when there was another report, and he exclaimed, falling to the earth, "Oh!—oh!—oh!—I am shot!—help!—help!—murder! murder!"

Pate and Wiggins fled through the forest with the murderers shouting and firing in their rear. As it happened, they soon became separated, and each got into a path which led him away from the other. After running with unexampled speed for some time, Pate suddenly found himself on the back of some huge horned monster, which rose from the earth with a loud roar and galloped off with him. How far he rode on the back of his terrible courser he never could tell; but at last the creature leaped over the trunk of a fallen tree, and Pate rolled off and sank to the earth in a comatose condition, induced by extreme terror.

When he became conscious, he got up and wandered for hours, through the forest, lost and bewildered, and in the utmost dread of falling into the hands of the desperadoes, who had slain poor Toney, Tom, and the Professor. At length the day broke; and as he wandered on he espied some one coming towards him who had a most hideous appearance. Pate was about to turn and fly, when the man called to him, and he recognized the voice of William Wiggins.

Wiggins had fled in headlong haste until he had emerged from the forest, and entered an inclosure surrounding a farm-house. Here he was so unfortunate as to overturn a bee-hive and was so badly stung by the infuriated insects that he rushed blindly around, and got among the poultry. Hearing the commotion among his fowls, the farmer came out with a club, and vigorously belabored the supposed thief, until the latter escaped, and fled back to the forest, with his face shockingly swollen by the stings of the bees, and his body terribly bruised by the blows from the farmer's cudgel.

When Wiggins had told his doleful story, Pate proceeded to relate how he had been carried off on the back of some horned monster, which had suddenly risen out of the earth, and must have been the devil. It now being broad daylight, they succeeded in finding the way to the town, where they told a tale of horror to the landlord at the hotel. But while they were describing the bloody murder in the forest, the landlord, with a smile, pointed out Toney, Tom, and the Professor standing on the opposite side of the street, in the midst of a group of young men, who were laughing immoderately at something which was being told. Pate and Wiggins were now informed that they had been made the victims of a singular custom, which was peculiar to that locality, and was termed, "running a greenhorn." Apprehensive of the ridicule which would be heaped upon them, they immediately took their departure from the beautiful town of Bella Vista.