"It is four miles beyond Claremont," answered the farmer.

"Where you live?"

"Yes."

"Then we will go there first."

"But how shall we carry--this gentleman?" asked the farmer, who could not get over a feeling of deference for the celebrated outlaw.

"We'll put him into the back part of the buggy."

By the united efforts of both the outlaw, like a trussed fowl, was deposited bodily in the rear of the carriage, where he lay in a most uncomfortable position, jolted and shaken whenever the road was rough or uneven.

"You'll repent this outrage," he said fiercely.

"Doesn't thee like it?" asked Luke, relapsing into his Quaker dialect.

"Curse you and your Quaker lingo!" retorted Fox, his black eyes sparkling vindictively.

"It wouldn't do thee any harm to turn Quaker thyself," suggested Luke.

"I'll be bruised to death before the ride is over," growled the outlaw.

"There is one way of saving you the discomfort of the ride."

"What is that?"

"I might shoot you through the head. As the reward is the same whether I deliver you alive or dead I have a great mind to do it."

The outlaw was made still more uncomfortable by these words. He had wholly misunderstood Luke at first, and the revelation of his real character had impressed him not only with respect but fear. He did not know of what this pseudo Quaker might be capable. He longed in some way to get out of his power. Force was impracticable, and he resolved to resort to finesse.

"Look here, my friend," he began.

"So you regard me as a friend? Thank you, Brother Fox; I won't forget it."

"Oh, bother your nonsense! I suppose you are after the thousand dollars offered for my apprehension."

"You have guessed right the first time. I am not a rich man, and I don't mind telling you that a thousand dollars will be particularly acceptable just about now."

"So I suppose. You don't feel particularly unfriendly to me?"

"Oh, no. I might under different circ.u.mstances come to love you like a brother."

"Or join my band?"

"Well, no; I draw the line there. As a Quaker I could not consistently join a band of robbers."

"Who are you?" asked Fox abruptly. "You weren't raised around here."

"No."

"Where, then?"

"I came from Iowa."

"What is your name?"

"My friend, I haven't any visiting cards with me. You can think of me as the Quaker detective."

"Then I will come to business. You want a thousand dollars?"

"You are correct there."

"Then I will show you a way to get it."

"I know one way already."

"You mean by delivering me up?"

"Yes."

"That would not suit me. Let me go and I will give you a thousand dollars."

"Have you got it with you?"

"No, but I can arrange to give it to you within a week. You see," added the outlaw dryly, "I have been prosperous in my business and can spare that sum in return for giving me my liberty."

"I am afraid, friend Fox, that my chance of securing the money in that way would be slender."

"I am a man of my word. What I promise, I will do."

"If you have so much money, why did you want to take the five hundred dollars of my friend here?"

"It was all in the way of business. Well, what do you say?"

"That I won't trust you. If I should take your thousand dollars for releasing you I should be as bad as you are."

"Very well; drive on then," said the outlaw sullenly.

In less than an hour Ezekiel Mason's home was reached. When they drove into the yard it made quite a sensation. Mrs. Mason and the hired man stood with mouths agape.

"Who have you got there, Ezekiel?" asked his wife.

"One of the Fox brothers!" answered the farmer in an important tone. "Me and my friend here took him."

Luke smiled and so did the prisoner, uncomfortable though he was.

"It would have taken a dozen like that fool to have captured me," he said in a low voice, but only Luke heard him.