Part 16 (2/2)

Soon after Jack's escape, Judson had awakened, and had been the first to discover that the boy had got away. A hasty and angry consultation followed, and it had been decided to send Bill, who was not known by sight in the vicinity, out to scout and see if the hunt for the missing boy was up. His astonishment at running into Billy was great. At first, till the boy spoke of Musky Bay, Bill, who was an all-around scoundrel, merely regarded him as a favorable object of robbery when he spied his gold watch chain. Now, however, the boy was a source of danger.

”Come over here, and I'll tell you all about it,” said Bill. ”Oh, you needn't be scared. I won't hurt you. I got all I wanted off of you. You see your friend got a little uppish after we carried him off, and so we had--_to hit him this way_!”

The last words were spoken quickly and were accompanied by a terrific blow aimed at Billy's chin. The boy sank in the roadway without a moan.

He lay white and apparently lifeless, while Bill, with a satirical grin on his face, regarded him.

”Well, you won't come to life this little while, young feller,” he muttered. ”I'll just put you over this hedge for safekeeping, so as you won't attract undue attention, and then be on my way.”

He picked the unconscious boy up as if he had been a feather and placed him behind the hedge. Then, with unconcern written on his brutal face, the rascal walked on. He was bound for a neighboring village to get provisions; for, till they knew how the land lay, none of the Judson gang dared to leave the deserted house. Bill, in his rough clothes, would attract little or no attention. But the others were smartly dressed and wore jewelry, and Donald had on yachting clothes. Had they been seen they could not have failed to be noticed in that simple community.

”This must be my lucky day,” muttered Bill, as he walked along. ”I got my pay for that job last night, and now I've got a gold watch and chain and fifteen dollars beside. Tell you what, Bill, old-timer, I won't go back to that old house again. I'll just leave that bunch up there, and beat it out of these parts in my motor-boat. That's what I'll do--go, while the goin's good, because I kin smell trouble coming sure as next election.”

CHAPTER XIX.

WHAT A ”HAYSEED” DID.

Billy opened his eyes. His head swam dizzily, and he felt sick and faint. The hot sun was beating down on him, but at first he thought he was at home and in bed. Then he began to remember. He sat up, and then, not without an effort, rose to his feet dizzily.

”Where on earth am I?” he thought. ”And what happened? Let's see what time it is.”

But his watch pocket was empty, and then full recollection of what had occurred came back to him. He was still rather painfully trying to regain the road when he heard the sound of a voice. It was a very loud voice, even though the owner of it was not yet in sight.

”Looks like we might have rain. I said it looks like we might have a shower.”

Then another voice--a boyish one--shouted back:

”YES--IT--DOES.”

”Gid-ap,” came in the first voice, and then came hoof-beats and the rumble of wheels. The next minute a ramshackle, two-seated rig, with a man and a boy on the front seat, came into sight. Billy gave one long stare, as one who doubted the evidence of his own eyes. Then he broke into a glad shout:

”Jack!”

”Billy, old fellow, what in the world? Why, you're white as a sheet.”

With alarm on his face, Jack sprang out, as Abner stopped the rig, and rushed toward Billy.

”How did you get here? What has happened?” demanded Jack.

Billy told his story in as few words as possible.

”Oh, the rascal,” broke out Jack, when Billy described the hold-up.

”That was Bill Sn.i.g.g.e.rs. He's the man who led the way to the stone house--but get in and I'll tell you my story as we go along.”

”Where are you going?”

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