“I didn’t nurse him for the money,” said Mrs. Windham. “I nursed him because I thought it was my duty.”
“All the same you should have had something,” answered her husband.
“No, he left what he had to me. But we thought it might be more than it was.”
“It was certainly hard.” Frank paused after a moment. “I’ll leave the two new books now and make a package of the old ones and take them to the Camperville hotel with me.”
The old books were done up in some newspapers and Frank put a strap around them. Then he passed over the two new volumes, and bid the young couple good-by. Soon he was wheeling up the side road into the main road once more.
He had passed less than half a mile when he came to a bend. Here the highway was narrow, and on either side were masses of trees and bushes.
“Here he comes now!” he heard a voice shout, and a moment later he found himself confronted by three farmer boys, all armed with clubs. They compelled him to halt and then surrounded him.
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THE farmer lads had cloths tied over the lower parts of their faces, and had their hats pulled far down over their foreheads, so as to conceal their features as much as possible. One, the smaller of the trio, had his jacket turned inside out.
“What do you want?” demanded Frank, as he leaped to the ground.
“We want to speak to you,” said one of the big boys, in a rough voice.
“Make him a prisoner, fellers,” cried the lad who had his coat turned inside out.
The voice appeared familiar to Frank, but he could not, for the moment, place it.
“You can’t make me a prisoner,” said the young book agent, and tried to back out with his bicycle.
[Illustration: “THEY OVERTURNED BOTH FRANK AND HIS WHEEL.”–P. 163.]
“Can’t we, though?” came from the lad who had not yet spoken. “Don’t you try to run. If you do, you’ll get a taste of this.” And he brandished his club.
“We’re goin’ to give you a good lickin’!” came from the boy with the turned jacket.
“Oh, so it’s you!” ejaculated Frank, for he now placed the speaker as the stage-struck farm boy.
“You don’t know me,” said the boy in quick alarm.
“You’re the boy that wanted to become an actor.”
“Your name is Jack, and you live in the yellow house over yonder hill.”