Looking closer he saw that the note was directed to him. Beginning to suspect that something was wrong, he opened it. This was what the note contained: MR. BICKFORD--I leave you a dollar to pay for my food and lodging. I do not care to become a blacksmith. Good by. KIT WATSON. "I'll have him back!" exclaimed Aaron Bickford, an angry look appearing on his face. "He ain't goin' to get the best of me." Mr. Bickford harnessed up his horse, and started after the fugitive. But in what direction should he drive? He was not long at fault. He met a milkman who had seen two boys starting out on the Grafton road, and so informed him. "I guess they're bound for the circus," he said. "Like as not," returned the blacksmith. But he had a long chase of it. It was not until he was within half a mile of the circus tents that he descried the two boys, trudging along, Kit with his valise in his hand. Hearing the sound of wheels, the boys looked back, and in some dismay recognized their pursuer. The blacksmith stood up in his wagon, and pointing his long whip at Kit, cried out, "Stop where you are, Kit Watson, or I'll give you the worst thrashing you ever had!" CHAPTER XI. KIT FALLS INTO THE HANDS OF THE ENEMY. If Aaron Bickford expected to frighten Kit by his threat, he was destined to find himself badly mistaken. Kit was startled at first, not having anticipated that the blacksmith would get upon his track so soon. But he was a boy of spirit, and had no thought of surrender. Mr. Bickford halted his horse, and Kit faced him. "Didn't you find my note?" he asked. "Yes, I did." "Then you know that I don't care to work for you." "What's that got to do with it? Your uncle and me have settled that you shall." "Then you'll have to unsettle it. I have a right to choose my own occupation, and I don't intend to become a blacksmith. Even if I did, I should choose some one else as my teacher." "None of your impudence, young man! You'll have a long account to settle with me, I warn you of that." "I had but one account to settle--for my board and lodging--and I've attended to that. Good morning, Mr. Bickford." Kit turned and began to continue his journey. "Hallo! Stop, I tell you!" shouted the blacksmith. "Have you got any more to say? If so, I'll listen." "What more I have to say, I shall say with a horsewhip!" retorted Bickford, grimly, preparing to descend from his wagon. "Come, William, we must run for it," said Kit. "Are you good at running?" "Try me!" was the laconic reply. By the time Aaron Bickford was out of his wagon, the boys had increased the distance between them by several rods. "Oho, so that's your game, is it?" said the blacksmith. "If I don't overhaul them, my name isn't Aaron Bickford."