It was no time to hesitate or parley. He sprang upon the robber, dashed him to the ground, and put his foot upon his breast. "What deviltry are you up to, you miserable man?" he demanded. Then turning to Mrs. Mason, he asked, "Why did he attack you?" "He wanted my husband's money--and a revolver," answered the trembling woman. "I have a great mind to give him the contents of the revolver," said Luke, sternly. John Fox was not a coward--on the contrary, he was a man of boldness and courage, but as he looked up at the stern face of the Quaker detective he quailed, almost for the first time in his life. He tried to rise, but the heavy foot of Luke Robbins was on his breast. "Let me up!" he growled. "You don't deserve to get up. You should lie there forever, for your cowardice in attacking a woman." "I would rather it had been you!" said John Fox, bitterly. "You are safe in attacking a woman," said the detective in scornful sarcasm. The outlaw was stung by his assailant's scorn. "I have attacked many better men than you," he replied, "and some have not lived to tell the tale." "So you own up to being a murderer? I am ready to believe you. I have a great mind to shoot you where you lie," and Luke pointed his revolver at the prostrate outlaw. "That would be the act of a coward," said John Fox, hastily, his cheek turning pale, for he felt that death might be close at hand. "Not exactly that, for I have mastered you in a fair fight, but there is one thing that holds back my hand. Do you know what it is?" "Well?" "I should cheat the gallows of its due. Here, farmer!" Ezekiel Mason, pale and trembling, was standing on the threshold. "What is it?" he asked. "Go and get another rope." The farmer left the house, and going to an out-house, returned with a stout clothes line. "Tie him again while I hold him," was Luke's command. "Tie him as securely as before--more so, if possible. How did you get loose?" "Find out for yourself," said the outlaw sullenly. "I mean to, and I don't intend that you shall escape the second time." Meanwhile John Fox was execrating his folly in not escaping when he had the chance. If he had not waited for the revolver and money, he might by this time have been out of danger. Yet he was not without hope. What he had done once he might do again. He still had the knife in his pocket. It was ready for use, and he meant to use it. No doubt he would be taken back to the attic, and probably pass the night there. If Luke Robbins should be his companion, all the better. After cutting his bonds, the knife could be put to another use, and might end the life of the man who had inflicted such humiliation upon him. He did not speak, but his eyes betrayed him. There was such a revengeful gleam in them that Luke read their meaning without trouble. "If I am ever at the mercy of that ruffian," he thought, "I wouldn't give much for my chance of keeping a whole skin."