The animal understood the tone, if not the words. He seemed completely reassured, and advanced a step or two nearer. With the utmost swiftness and dexterity, combined with an astonishing gentleness,--making no gesture which might excite Roger's suspicion,--Sandy Flash thrust his hand into the holsters, smiled mockingly, cut the straps of the saddle-bags with a single movement of his keen-edged knife, tested the weight of the bags, nodded, grinned, and then, stepping aside, he allowed the horse to pass him. But he watched every motion of the head and ears, as he did so. Roger, however, seemed to think only of his master. Bending down his head, he snorted warmly into Gilbert's pale face, and then swelled his sides with a deep breath of satisfaction. Tears of shame, grief, and rage swam in Gilbert's eyes. “Roger,” he said, “I've lost everything but you!” He staggered to his feet and leaned against the bank. The extent of his loss--the hopelessness of its recovery--the impotence of his burning desire to avenge the outrage--overwhelmed him. The highwayman still stood, a few paces off, watching him with a grim curiosity. With a desperate effort, Gilbert turned towards him. “Sandy Flash,” he cried, “do you know what you are doing?” “I rather guess so,”--and the highwayman grinned. “I've done it before, but never quite so neatly as this time.” “I've heard it said, to your credit,” Gilbert continued, “that, though you rob the rich, you sometimes give to the poor. This time you've robbed a poor man.” “I've only borrowed a little from one able to spare a good deal more than I've got,--and the grudge I owe him isn't paid off yet.” “It is not so!” Gilbert cried. “Every cent has been earned by my own and my mother's hard work. I was taking it to Chester, to pay off a debt upon the farm; and the loss and the disappointment will well nigh break my mother's heart. According to your views of things, you owe me a grudge, but you are outside of the law, and I did my duty as a lawful man by trying to shoot you!” “And I, _bein'_ outside o' the law, as you say, have let you off mighty easy, young man!” exclaimed Sandy Flash, his eyes shining angrily and his teeth glittering. “I took you for a fellow o' pluck, not for one that'd lie, even to the robber they call me! What's all this pitiful story about Barton's money?” “Barton's money!” “Oh--ay! You didn't agree to take some o' his money to Chester?” The mocking expression on the highwayman's face was perfectly diabolical. He slung the saddle-bags over his shoulders, and turned to leave. Gilbert was so amazed that for a moment he knew not what to say. Sandy Flash took three strides up the road, and then sprang down into the thicket. “It is not Barton's money!” Gilbert cried, with a last desperate appeal,--“it is mine, mine and my mother's!” A short, insulting laugh was the only answer.