He slackened his pace and approached cautiously until within ten yards of where two men sat in earnest conversation.
One man was tall and thin and had a scar on his chin.
The other fellow was the thief who had robbed Dick of his watch.
At first Tom was not inclined to believe the evidence of his eyesight.
"Perhaps I'm mistaken," he mused.
He resolved to draw nearer and hear if possible what the two men were saying.
A clump of bushes grew close to the spring before mentioned, and he crawled up behind this, thus getting within fifteen feet of the campfire.
"You are certain you saw the boys, Buddy?" he heard the tall man with the scar say.
"I'm as sure of it as I'm sure your name is Arnold Baxt — "
"Hush, Buddy, how many times must I tell you that I want that name dropped, especially around here?"
"There aint anybody around here to hear us?"
"Well, I don't want the name mentioned. I call you Buddy. You must call me Nolly."
"All right, Nolly."
"Now, you are dead sure you saw the boys on their way to Putnam Hall?"
"I am."
"How much have you drank to-day?"
"Only two glasses, this morning. Oh, it was them," went on Buddy, with a total disregard for grammar.
The tall man muttered something under his breath.
"It's too bad," he said aloud.
"What's too bad?"
"That they are going to Putnam Hall. Still, I don't know as it will amount to anything. But I reckon you had best get out of the neighborhood."
"I'm going to get out."
"What brought you here?"
"I wanted to see you again, as I said before."
"About what?"
"That mining deal."
"I can't do anything at present."
"Why not?"
"There are some papers missing, Buddy. As soon as I get those I'll be in a condition to go ahead. You know, I've got to move slowly."
"Well, what brought you here?"
"That is my business."
"Every few months or so you come up to Cedarville, Baxt — Nolly, and on a secret mission."
"Well, who has a better right? Come, let us talk about something else. If you —— Hullo, what's that?"
Both men leaped to their feet as a sound from the bushes back of the spring reached their ears.
Tom had been lying as quiet as a mouse when a pinching-bug, as they are commonly called, had dropped from one of the bushes onto his neck.
The bug was as big as a walnut shell, and had fine nippers, and when he took hold of the skin Tom could not help but make a slight noise as he tried to throw the bug off.
Before the boy could arise to his feet the two men were rushing upon him, Buddy with a stick and the tall man with something which he had drawn from his pocket. It was a sand-bag, a favorite weapon used in our large cities by footpads.
CHAPTER X
SETTLING DOWN AT THE HALL
"It's a boy!" cried the tall, slim man.
"One of the boys!" came from the tramp known as Buddy.
"You don't say! The tall man turned to Tom. How did you get here?"
"Walked," answered Tom as calmly as he could, although this is not saying much, for he realized that the pair before him were desperate characters and that he was no match for them.
"Have you been spying on us?" demanded the fellow called Nolly.
"I've been spying on this man?" answered Tom, pointing to the other fellow. "He stole my brother's watch. What have you done with it?"
"Never stole a watch in me life?" returned Buddy quickly.
"I say you did, and it will do no good to deny it."
"If you say I stole any watch I'll — I'll knock yer down," cried Buddy fiercely.
And he rushed at Tom and aimed a blow at the boy's head with his stick.
Nolly also ran forward with his sandbag; and, seeing this, Tom leaped back, and was soon making tracks as fast as his legs could carry him.
The two men did not pursue him far. Instead, they turned and ran in the opposite direction.
Tom hurried on until he came within sight of a large farmhouse. Reaching the front door, he used the brass knocker vigorously.
Soon an upper window was raised, and the head of a middle-aged man was thrust out.
"Who is there?" he demanded.
"I want help, sir," answered Tom. "I am a pupil at Putnam Hall, and I have just spotted a fellow in this neighborhood who robbed my brother of a gold watch."
"Is that so!"
"Oh, papa, is it one of the boys Grace and I were telling you about?" came in the voice of Nellie Laning. "Aren't you Tom Rover?"
"Yes. This must be Mr. Laning."
"Yes, my boy, I am John Laning," answered the farmer. "I will be down in a moment. We are in the habit of retiring early."
In a few minutes Tom was let into the house, and he told his story to John Laning, his wife, and the two girls, all of whom listened with interest.
Then a hired man was aroused, and the two men and the boy hurried to where the campfire had been located.
But, as stated before, Buddy and Nolly had made good use of their time, and no trace of them was to be found.
"They have skipped out," said Mr. Laning. "To look for them will be worse than looking for spiders in a corn stack. I suppose you'll be getting back to Putnam Hall now?"
"If it is all the same, I would like to engage a room at your farmhouse for the night," answered Tom, and told his tale.
At the mention of Josiah Crabtree's name John
