"What do yer want, young feller?" demanded the leader of the party, who rejoiced in the name of Stumpy Nuggs. "I want you two men to help me lay a boy out," answered Dan Baxter, feeling that there was no use in mincing matters, for he knew that the tramps were a bad crowd. "Lay a boy out?" repeated the second tramp, who was called Longback. "Yes, he is an enemy of mine, and just passed on the road yonder. If you will help me thrash him and make him a prisoner, I'll give you each five dollars." "Say, yer talkin' big," said Stumpy Nuggs. "I mean what I say. I know you are not above doing such work by the way you tackled me." "Is de boy alone?" "Yes." "An' yer want to whip him and den make him a prisoner?" "Yes." "Wot yer goin' ter do wid him after dat?" "I don't know yet." "Who is de boy?" "A cadet up at the military academy above here." Stumpy Nuggs scratched his head of tangled hair. "Maybe yer gittin' us into a trap fer askin' yer fer dat dollar," he observed suspiciously. "No, I am not. This boy is an old enemy of mine, and I want to get square with him. We can easily catch him before he gets to the academy, if you hurry up." "An' you will give us five dollars each?" "Yes--and perhaps more. The boy carries a watch, and must have some money in his pocket. He also wears a gold ring." At the mention of jewelry and money the tramps' eyes glistened. "If you are tellin' de truth, dis is all right," cried Stumpy Nuggs, as he arose and stretched himself. "I am telling the truth, and you can easily prove it for yourselves. Only hurry up, or it will be too late." The two tramps consulted together, and asked a few more questions. Then they agreed to follow Baxter, and do whatever he desired of them, providing they were allowed their fair share of plunder, if there was any. In the meantime Tom went on in deep thought. He still held the stone in his hand. He wished he had a club, but the stick he had formerly picked up had been left at the cottage. The hall grounds had just come into sight in the dim distance when the boy heard the patter of footsteps behind him. He turned around, but could see nobody, and at that instant the sounds ceased. "Somebody is following me," he thought. "Can it be the same party I spotted before?" An instant later he found himself confronted by two men and a boy, each with a bit of cloth tied over his face, into which two holes had been cut for eyes. "Is dat him?" asked one of the men. "Yes," answered the boy, in a strangely unnatural voice. "Give it to him." All three of the party carried sticks, and they at once fell upon Tom, hitting him over the shoulders and the head. He did his best to defend himself, and hit Baxter in the arm with the stone, inflicting a wound that made the bully shriek with pain. "So it is you, Baxter!" cried Tom, recognizing the voice. "What do you mean by this?" "Knock him down," yelled the bully. "Don't let him get away from you!"