"There ain't much chance of that," returned Sandy. "We've hunted high and low for that money, or for any papers to tell where it might be. As for Squire Blasdell, he's harder than flint. He wouldn't wait a day after th' money was due. No, we've got to lose the farm." Truly there seemed no way out, but Mr. Pertell was not one to give up easily. He made up his mind that when he got the chance he would see some of his friends in New York. He might be able to induce one of them to provide the money, and take up the mortgage, holding it until it could be paid off gradually. But he said nothing of this now, for he did not want to raise false hopes. "Well, I reckon I'll turn in," announced Sandy, after a bit. "I'm not used to staying up late. Is everything all right?" "Oh, yes, indeed--very nice," replied the manager. "I'm going to start in planning to-morrow." Sandy arose to go in, and, as he did so he peered out toward the road. The moon had risen and it was quite light. Mr. Pertell saw a dark figure slouching along the highway. "That you, 'Bige?" called Sandy, evidently thinking he saw some neighbor. But the man in the road did not answer. Instead he broke into a run, as though frightened. "That's queer!" exclaimed Sandy. "I'm going to see who that is." "I'm with you!" declared the manager, and they hurried down the gravel path. CHAPTER VI THE BUTTING BULL Speeding to the front gate the theatrical man and the young farmer darted down the moonlit road. It was a straight highway, and the white dust added to the effect of the moon, that was now well over the trees. But, to the surprise of the two men, no figure was in sight. As they reached the highway it was deserted, though it had been but a few seconds since Sandy had seen and called to the man in the road. "He--he's gone!" gasped Sandy. "So he is. Must have slipped to one side," agreed the manager. "Do you want to get him? Who was he?" "That's jest what I don't know. First I thought he was 'Bige Tapper, who lives down th' road a piece. But 'Bige would have answered." "But this fellow didn't, so he couldn't have been your friend," spoke Mr. Pertell. "And why should he have run when you hailed him?" "That's what I can't understand," replied Sandy. "It's sort of suspicious; ain't it?" "It surely is. Come on, let's have a look." Together they went down the road in the direction taken by the mysterious stranger. But, though they looked on both sides, and peered amid the bushes, they saw no one. They called out, demanding to know who had gone past the house; but of course, in case the man was a suspicious character, they could hardly have expected an answer. Their shouts, though, brought out Paul, who had not yet gone to bed, and he joined in the search. "Who do you think he was?" the moving picture actor asked of Sandy, when they had given up the attempt to find the man.