Part 25 (1/2)
”He'd better not try it,” said Philip, but he seemed uneasy at the thought.
On their way back they pa.s.sed, unconsciously, near the place where the tin box was concealed.
Hovering near the spot was Ralph Temple, uneasy for the safety of the buried treasure.
He eyed the two young fellows with suspicion. They had no guns in their hands, and he could not understand what object they had in coming to this out-of-the-way place so early in the morning.
”What are you about here?” he demanded, roughly.
Philip was frightened and turned pale; but James Congreve only surveyed the man curiously, and said:
”Is that any business of yours, my friend?”
”You'll find out whether it's any business of mine,” returned Temple, angrily.
”That's precisely what I would like to find out,” said Congreve, coolly.
”You accost us as if you were the owner of the wood, which, I take it, you are not.”
”Do you want me to wring your neck, young man?” said Temple, with a growl.
”Oh, don't make him angry, James!” begged Philip, nervously, laying his hand on Congreve's arm.
James--who certainly was not a coward--surveyed his companion contemptuously.
”Much obliged to you for your kind offer,” said he, addressing Temple, ”but I must decline it.”
”You've got too long a tongue, young man!” said Temple, provoked by the other's coolness. ”I've a mind to teach you a lesson.”
”When I want one I will let you know,” said Congreve, changing his tone and manner and regarding the other scornfully.
”Meanwhile, my man, I advise you not to drink so early in the morning.
It doesn't improve your naturally bad manners.”
With a muttered exclamation Ralph Temple sprang forward, prepared to handle Congreve roughly, as he was quite able to do, being much his superior in size and strength, but, with his hand nearly touching the shoulder of the young man, recoiled, as Congreve drew out a revolver and pointed it at him.
”One step further and I fire!” he said, in a calm, collected tone, while Philip stood by, as pale as a sheet.
”Confusion!” exclaimed the ruffian, in mingled amazement and dismay.
”Who are you, anyway?”
”My name is James Congreve, at your service,” said the owner of that name, bowing. ”I regret that I haven't a card about me.”
”You're a cool customer!” muttered Temple, surveying Congreve curiously.
”So people tell me. You'll find me at the hotel in the village, if you have any further business with me.”
Congreve nodded carelessly and left the spot--Phil, in a very nervous condition, keeping himself somewhat in advance.