Chapter XIII. An Unequal Contest - Page 2

stopped at a baker's shop to get a lunch. When I got through I offered the bill. The old Dutchman put on his spectacles, and he looked first at the bill, then at me. Then he threatened to have me arrested for passing bad money. I told him I'd go out in the back yard and settle it with him. I tell you, boy, I'd have knocked him out in one round, and he knew it, so he bade me be gone and never darken his door again. Where did you get it?"

"It was passed on me by a man I was traveling with."

"How much other money have you got?" asked the tramp.

"Very little."

"Give it to me, whatever it is."

This was a little too much for Carl's patience.

"I have no money to spare," he said, shortly.

"Say that over again!" said the tramp, menacingly.

"If you don't understand me, I will. I have no money to spare."

"You'll spare it to me, I reckon."

"Look here," said Carl, slowly backing. "You've robbed me of ten dollars. You'll have to be satisfied with that."

"It was no good. It might have sent me to prison. If I was nicely dressed I might pass it, but when a chap like me offers a ten- dollar bill it's sure to he looked at sharply. I haven't a cent, and I'll trouble you to hand over all you've got."

"Why don't you work for a living? You are a strong, able-bodied man."

"You'll find I am if you give me any more of your palaver."

Carl saw that the time of negotiation was past, and that active hostilities were about to commence. Accordingly he turned and ran, not forward, but in the reverse direction, hoping in this way to meet with Mr. Jennings.

"Ah, that's your game, is it?" growled the tramp. "You needn't expect to escape, for I'll overhaul you in two minutes."

So Carl ran, and his rough acquaintance ran after him.

It could hardly be expected that a boy of sixteen, though stout and strong, could get away from a tall, powerful man like the tramp.

Looking back over his shoulder, Carl saw that the tramp was but three feet behind, and almost able to lay his hand upon his shoulder.

He dodged dexterously, and in trying to do the same the tramp nearly fell to the ground. Naturally, this did not sweeten his temper.

"I'll half murder you when I get hold of you," he growled, in a tone that bodied ill for Carl.

The latter began to pant, and felt that he could not hold out much longer. Should he surrender at discretion?

"If some one would only come along," was his inward aspiration. "This man will take my money and beat me, too."

As if in reply to his fervent prayer the small figure of Mr. Jennings appeared suddenly, rounding a curve in the road.