arrive at the conclusion half so quick as most of my young readers
would have done.

"Thirty-five dollars!" exclaimed Bobby, when the problem was solved.
"Gracious!"

"Hallo, Bob!" shouted Tom Spicer, who had got tired of fishing;
besides, the village clock was just striking twelve, and it was time
for him to go home.

Bobby made no answer, but hastily tying the gold pieces up in the
corner of his handkerchief, he threw the broken rail he had used in
stopping the horse where it belonged, and started for the place where
he had left his fishing apparatus.

"Hallo, Bob!"

"Well, Tom?"

"Stopped him--didn't you?"

"I did."

"You were a fool; he might have killed you."

"So he might; but I didn't stop to think of that. The lady's life was
in danger."

"What of that?"