hat do you want?” demanded gates.
“your money,” said the other briefly.
gates was a man of courage, and he answered coolly:
“your answer is brief, and to the point.”
“i meant it to be,” said the highwayman.
“suppose we object to complying with your polite request, what then?”
“i hold the answer in my hand.”
“your pistol, i suppose.”
“you are perfectly correct. you must surrender either your money or your life.”
the dutchman, who had been staring open-mouthed, began to understand the condition of affairs, and was panic-stricken.
“give him de money,” he said, trembling. “take his money, good gentleman, and spare my life. i want to go home to meine katrine.”
serious as the case was, gates could not help laughing at the naiveté of his teutonic traveling companion.
“mr. highwayman,” he said, “i assure you it isn’t worth your while to rob me. my dutch friend here is a great capitalist—a banker, i believe. be content with what he will give you.”
herr schmidt was exasperated.
“that is one beeg lie,” he said. “i am only a poor saloon-keeper, with a few dollars which i made by selling lager. let me go, and i will go home to meine katrine.”
“gentlemen,” said the highwayman, “i make no exceptions. you must all empty your pockets.”
“stop a minute!” said gates, and he suddenly drew a revolver from his pocket and pointed it at the robber.
the latter did not appear disconcerted.
“that won’t avail you,” he said.
“why not?” asked gates. “we are four to two.”
“we shall see.”
the robber put a whistle to his lips and blew a shrill blast.
in answer to this summons six other men burst from the covert, all armed, all dangerous.
“you see,” said the first speaker, “we are stronger than you thought. fire at me, and all your lives are sacrificed. your triumph will be short.”
“don’t shoot, herr gates,” said the dutchman in an agony of apprehension. “i don’t want to die. what would become of katrine and the kinder?”
gates was a sensible man. he saw that to fire would only be to throw away his own life and that of his companions. this he felt that he had no moral right to do.
“what shall i do?” he asked, turning to morton.
“it’s useless to resist,” said the latter nervously.
“and what do you say, tom?”
“since these gentlemen are so very pressing, we shall be obliged to yield.”
“i believe you are right.”
then turning to the former speaker, who appeared to be the chief of the robbers, he said:
“will you let us go if we surrender our money?”
“not to-day. you must follow us.”
“where?”
“where we shall lead you.”
“what is that for?”
“it is unnecessary to ask.”
“that is adding insult to injury. i don’t like that.”
“perhaps,” suggested tom, “these gentlemen mean to give us some supper and a night’s lodging. if so, i go for accepting the invitation. there isn’t any hotel about here that i know of. i take their invitation as very kind.”
“they mean to make us pay dearly for their accommodation.”
“we may as well get something for our money,” said tom.
“that’s so. well, gentlemen, for reasons which it is unnecessary to particularize, we accept your invitation.”
“very good,” said the chief. “put up your revolver, then, first of all, or rather give it to me.”
“i would like to keep it.”
“impossible. give it up.”
gates handed over the weapon unwillingly.
“now give me yours,” said the chief to morton.
the latter with trembling hand surrendered it. he was deficient in courage, and had sat silent, pale with terror, while the conference had gone on.
“now, my young bantam,” said the robber, turning to tom, “have you any?”
“yes, but i should like to keep it.”
“hand it over.”
“it doesn’t belong to me.”
“we’ll take care of it for the owner.”
“here it is. be careful how you handle it, for it’s loaded. it might hit my fat friend there.”
the dutchman began to kick at this suggestion.
“take care, mr. robber,” he exclaimed. “it might go off all at once, and that would be an end of johann schmidt.”
“oh, never mind, mein herr,” said tom. “there are plenty of john schmidts in the world. one more or less wouldn’t make much difference.”
“it would make much difference to me,” said johann sensibly, “and mein katrine and the kinder.”
“well, what next?” asked gates. “can we go on?”
“no, you must go with us. first, get down from the wagon.”
“what is that for?”
“ask no questions, but obey,” said the highwayman sternly.
“very good. i suppose, under the circumstances, we must obey orders.”
“get down, herr schmidt,” said tom to the teuton.
“what for? what will he do?” asked the terrified dutchman.
“i don’t know,” said tom gravely; “but i’ll tell you what they do sometimes.”
“was?”
“they stand travelers up in a line and shoot them.”
“will they be so wicked?” groaned the poor dutchman, turning as pale as his florid complexion would admit. “they would not dare!”
“they dare anything, but the only thing we can do is to follow directions.”
tom assisted the poor man from the wagon. gates and morton were already out.
“now,” said the chief of the highwaymen, turning to the driver, “you can go. but take heed,” he added sternly, “that you say nothing of this adventure. if you do, you are a marked man, and your life will not be worth an hour’s purchase.”
“i understand,” said the man.
gates turned toward the driver with sudden suspicion.
“i believe you are in league with these men,” he said sternly. “you have led us into a trap.”
“that is not so,” said the driver earnestly. “i swear it.”
“the man speaks truth,” said the captain. “we have never had anything to do with him.”
“then why don’t you keep him as you do us?”
“we don’t fly at such game. he is a poor laboring man. we don’t prey on such.”
“i am a poor laboring man,” said herr schmidt eagerly. “let me go, too, good mr. robber. i am not rich like these gentlemen.”
the chief laughed.
“we can tell better by and by,” he said. “now, gentlemen, i must trouble you to follow us.”
escorted by the eight highwaymen, our four travelers walked on into the depths of the forest.
