"You want to do your running scientifically, Tom. That athletic
instructor in New York --"

"Oh, bother your scientific things, Sam! Uncle gives us enough of
that, so don't you start in. I wonder if Dick has got a letter
from Larry Colby? He promised to write last week. He is going to
a boarding school soon."

"We'll know in a few minutes. I wonder where Larry -- Gracious,
listen!"

Sam broke off short, as a loud cry for help reached their ears.
It came from the footpath, at a point where it ran through a grove
of beech trees.

"It's Dick's voice! He wants help!" burst from Tom's lips. "Come
on!" and he set off as rapidly as his exhausted condition would
permit. As before, Sam readily outdistanced him, and soon came
upon the scene of a most brutal encounter.

A burly tramp, all of six feet in height, had attacked Dick Rover
and thrown him upon his back. The tramp was now kneeling upon the
prostrate boy's chest, at the same time trying to wrench a watch
from Dick's vest pocket.

"Keep still there, or I'll knock you on the bead!" cried the
tramp, as, letting go of the watch chain, he clapped a dirty hand
over Dick's mouth.

"I -- won't -- kee -- keep still!" spluttered Dick. "Let -- me --