"What has happened, sir?" asked Tom Reade, also stepping forward.

"I've been robbed!" replied the old man, in a broken voice.

"Robbed?" repeated Dick. "Do you mean that some villains have
stolen the goods from your wagon?"

"No, no!" replied the old man, with sudden, unlooked for vehemence.
"I've been robbed, I tell you---my money stolen!"

"Money?" asked Tom in surprise. "How much was taken from you?"

"Four hundred and eighteen dollars," replied the old man, with
a lack of reserve that testified to his confidence in these unknown
but respectful and sympathetic high school boys.

"All that money?" cried Dick. "How did you ever come to have
so much about you?"

"I owe some bills for goods, over at Hillsboro," replied Reuben
Hinman, "and this trip was to take me toward Hillsboro. But now-----"

He broke off, the strange, rending sobbing returning.

"Perhaps we can help you, bad as the case looks," Tom suggested.
"Try to tell us all about it, sir."

"Where did you have the money?" inquired Dick.