Four miles from the hotel they entered a wood, through which the road ran for half a mile. It was dark, but not completely dark. A few stars sent down a faint light. By the light of these stars Walter descried a man, mounted on a large horse, stationed motionless in the middle of the road, apparently waiting for them to come up.

"Professor," he exclaimed, clutching his employer by the arm, "that's the man we saw at the hotel."

CHAPTER XXIII

WALTER AND THE HIGHWAYMAN

The professor was startled at the exclamation, but was unwilling to believe that the man before him was a highwayman.

"My friend," he said, "won't you move to one side? You are in my path."

"We have a little business together," said the horseman, grimly, as he drew out and presented a revolver, "that must be attended to first."

"Do you wish a bottle of balm?" inquired Professor Robinson, in a tremulous voice.

"No; you may need one yourself unless we come to terms."

"What do you mean?"

"Hand over your pocketbook, old man, and be quick about it."

"I presume you are joking," said the professor nervously.

"You won't find it much of a joke!"

"Are you a--highwayman?" gasped the professor.

The other gave a quick, short laugh.

"You may call me that if you like," he said.

Now, Professor Robinson had, as was natural, a decided objection to surrendering his money, and, though there seemed little chance of producing an effect on the mind of the outlaw, ventured to remonstrate.

"My friend," he said, "if you are in want, I will lend, nay, give you five dollars, out of a spirit of humanity; but I trust you will not jeopardize your liberty by descending to robbery."

"Five dollars won't do, old man! Hand over your wallet, with all there is in it, and dry up that Sunday-school talk."

"What shall I do, Walter?" asked the poor professor.

"I am afraid you will have to let him have it, professor."

"That's where your head is level, boy!" said the highwayman approvingly. "Just fling over your wallet, and be quick about it."

"Tell him to ride up and get it," said Walter, in an undertone.

Though the professor did not understand Walter's object in suggesting this, he was in a mood to be guided by any one, and repeated Walter's words.

"Anything to oblige," said the stranger.

"Don't give it to him till I say the word," whispered Walter.

The highwayman, lowering his revolver, rode up alongside of the wagon and held out his hand for the wallet.

Walter had conceived a bold scheme for disarming him and rendering him harmless.

"Give the wallet to me, professor," he said.

His employer meekly obeyed.

Then Walter, rising, dropped the wallet on the floor of the wagon, and reaching over suddenly grasped the revolver from the unsuspecting robber, and before he recovered from his amazement brought down the whip with terrible force on the flanks of his horse. The startled animal gave a spring that nearly unseated his rider and dashed madly down the road.

The robber was furious. As soon as he could he regained control of his steed and galloped back.

"Give me that revolver!" he shouted, in a rage.

Walter held the weapon in his hand and steadily pointed it at its late owner.

"I'll give you the contents if you don't ride off."

"Confound you, you young rascal! If you don't give me back my weapon I'll kill you!"

It was an empty threat, as Walter well knew.

"Do you hear me?" he said quietly.

The robber scanned him curiously. He had thought him a mere boy, without spirit or courage. Now he was compelled to revise his opinion of him. Threats would not answer. He must have recourse to strategy.

"You're smart, youngster. I'll give you credit for that," he said, in a milder tone. "You've got the best of me, I admit."

"Yes," answered Walter, "I have the advantage of you."

"I meant to take your money, but I won't do it now."

"Thank you!" said Walter, with an ironical smile.

"Just give me back that weapon of mine, and I'll ride off and let you alone."

"I don't think it would be wise."

The highwayman frowned.

"Don't be a fool, youngster!" he said. "Do you doubt my word?"

"I don't know you well enough to decide whether you are to be trusted, but I guess I'll keep the revolver."