"Wait a minute, I want to give you a bit of advice," said Robert, catching him by the arm. "If I wanted to I could have you arrested on the spot. But I am not going to take that trouble. But this baggage man is a witness to the fact that you tried to steal my valise, and if you or that Frenchman ever bother me again, I'll have you locked up on the charge, and I'll see that you go to prison for it. Now you can clear out." For the moment Hammerditch was speechless. He wanted to flare up, but the words would not come. He grated his teeth, turned on his heel and almost ran from the baggage room. With him went Jean Le Fevre; and it may be added right here that that was the last Robert ever saw of the dishonest pair. After the pair were gone Robert gave the baggage man the particulars of what had occurred, so that he might remember, in case the affair came up later. "I thought it was queer he couldn't remember how his bag looked," said the baggage master. "I reckon, however, they won't bother you again in a hurry." It was now nearly train time, and Robert remained in the depot. Presently the train came in and he got on board, and the journey to Timberville was continued. "I'll not forget my stop-off at Muskegon," he mused, as he sped on his way. The remainder of the journey passed without special incident. Hammerditch and Le Fevre had expected to take this same train, but could not screw up the necessary courage to do so. Timberville was reached about three o'clock, and our hero alighted at the depot, which was little better than a shed. As Mr. Porter had said the village was small and looked almost deserted. "I wish to get to Mr. Felix Amberton's place," he said to the station master. "How can I best reach it?" "It's several miles from here," was the reply. "Guess Joe Bandy will take you along in his rig." Joe Bandy proved to be the mail carrier, who drove a two horse wagon through the lumber region of the vicinity. He agreed to take Robert along for the usual fare, thirty-five cents. Soon they were on the way. "Come out to try your luck?" questioned the mail carrier, with a grin. "No, I came out on business." "Say, you can't be the lawyer Mr. Marden is expectin'," went on the mail carrier, with a look at the valise. "No, I'm no lawyer," laughed Robert. "But I am a friend to Mr. Marden. How is Mr. Amberton?" "Doin' poorly. Those land sharks are worrying him to death. They want to take his timber from him," answered Bandy. They passed over several hills and through a heavy forest, and then made a sharp turn to the left. Presently a well-built cabin came into sight. "There is Amberton's hang-out," said the driver, and drew up. "Hullo, Robert!" came a voice from behind some trees, and Dick Marden rushed forth. His face wore a broad smile and he almost broke the bones of Robert's fingers, so hearty was his hand shake. "How are you, lad--well? And did you get that map?"