The man had been anxious to put his plot against Leo into operation at once, but Providence willed otherwise. Griswold was taken down with rheumatism and for several months could scarcely walk.

But now he was better, and one day started west to earn the money the squire of Hopsville had promised him.

As has been related, Delbier, the expert swimmer, and Leo had become warm friends. One morning the performer called Leo aside.

"Say, Leo, have you any enemies besides that Porler?" he asked.

"I don't know but what I have," laughed the young gymnast.

"Don't laugh; I am serious."

"Why, what's up?"

"For the past two days I have noticed an ugly-looking man hanging around, watching you," went on Delbier earnestly.

"Watching me?"

"Yes, and if I'm not mistaken, he follows you wherever you go."

"What kind of a looking man?"

As well as he could, Delbier described the individual. But Leo was not thinking of Hank Griswold-indeed, he hardly knew the man-and he shook his head.

"You must imagine it, Delbier."

"I guess not. Better be on your guard."

"All right," and Leo laughed.

When in the country Leo had grown tired of the quietness, but now when every day brought fresh bustle and confusion he was glad enough to escape the crowd and go for a quiet walk.

His course took him along a country road which presently followed the bank of a mountain stream.

It was a clear stream and full of fish, and Leo much regretted not having brought along a line and hook.

He wandered on and on until the town was left a good two miles behind.

Then he sat down on a rock overlooking the stream to rest.

As he did so he fancied he saw somebody following him.

The individual drew behind some bushes.

Leo at once thought of what Delbier had said.

He resolved to be on his guard, and so kept his eyes open.

But nearly half an hour went by, and as no one appeared Leo began to think he was mistaken.

A little later the boy started across an open field not far from the brook.

Then from out of the bushes crawled a man. It was Hank Griswold.

Cautiously he came behind Leo.

Presently our hero soon stumbled across the opening to an old well.

"Hullo, this is dangerous!" he murmured. "It ought to be closed."

A footstep sounded near at hand. He turned, and on the instant received a shove that hurled him backward into the opening!

For the minute Leo felt that his end must be at hand.

Down he went into the dark and deep well, with the dirt and brush on top of him.

Had he fallen to the rocky bottom he would most certainly have been killed.

But, fortunately, when less than ten feet had been pa.s.sed, his clothing caught on some projecting rocks.

Instantly he grasped the rocks with his hands.

The dirt, falling on him, nearly choked him.

He steadied himself with difficulty and managed to kick himself clear from what was above.

The dirt and brush sliding past him, he felt safer, although his position was still an extremely perilous one.

He looked up and saw the evil face of Hank Griswold peering down into the well.

It was too dark for the villain to see the boy, and the young gymnast remained perfectly quiet.

Griswold heard the dirt strike the bottom of the well with a loud sound.

He laughed softly to himself.

"Done for that trip!" he muttered to himself. "Good enough!"

Hank Griswold waited for a few minutes, and then, apparently satisfied, hurried off.

As soon as he disappeared Leo looked about for some means by which to get out of his present position.

To an ordinary individual this would have been an impossible undertaking, for the sides of the well were very slippery.

Leo's gymnastic training now stood him in good stead.

Cautiously he made his way from rock to rock, taking chances more than once that would have made many a boy shudder, grow dizzy and fall.

At last the top of the well was reached once more.