“Do so, Grady,” said Nick. Grady obeyed with an ugly scowl, and the watch and chain landed in the dust at the ruffian’s feet. “Now, your employer’s purse.” “In the breast pocket of my vest, Grady.” “Look lively.” Grady dove into Nick’s vest and drew out his pocketbook. Nick still sat with his hands in the air, but not for a moment did his eyes leave those of the highwayman. Though at first inclined to send Grady into his hip pocket after his revolver, Nick realized that the Irishman might not be quick and accurate in using it, and also that the crook was alert to their every move. The hazard was too great to be taken, and Nick decided to submit to the situation for the time being, and watch for an opportunity to turn the tables on the rascal. Grady drew out the pocketbook, which contained about a hundred dollars and a few unimportant papers. “Toss it into the road,” commanded the highwayman. “Let it go, Grady,” said Nick. “Your employer has more wisdom than you, Grady,” said the crook, with a threatening sneer. “Obey at once, or I’ll let daylight into you.” Grady tossed the pocketbook after the watch and chain. “Now, up with your hands again!” “Bedad, mister, some day the boot’ll be on the other leg,” snarled Grady, as he obeyed. “It’ll not be to-day, Grady, take my word for that,” retorted the ruffian. “The day will come, nevertheless,” Nick Carter now said, with ominous quietude. “Do you think so?” “I certainly do.” “Well, I don’t.” “That is because you do not know who I am,” said Nick pointedly. “I don’t care who you are.” “You don’t, eh?” “I certainly don’t.” “You will change your mind later.” The scene was a curious one, the two men in the runabout seated with their hands high above their heads, while the man in the road stood as coolly intimidating them as if not the slightest danger existed for him, either from them or the sudden approach of some intruders upon the scene. Nick had begun the conversation with the scamp in the hope of catching him napping for an instant, or that some person or another automobile might appear; but neither of them seemed probable, for the woodland road was deserted, and the highwayman did not for a second relax his vigilance or lower his leveled weapons. With Nick Carter’s last remark, however, the rascal’s eyes took on an uglier gleam, and he evidently decided that he had better not defer making his escape. That he was clever in so doing, and foresaw that his victims might possibly be armed, appeared in the way he accomplished it. With both men constantly under his eyes, he said sternly: “The slightest move by either of you will cost him his life. I warn you that I shall instantly fire, not caution you again; so keep that in mind, and be wise.” Then he slipped one of his revolvers into his coat pocket.