"Don't you think it's too late now, Matthew?" suggested Tim. "I tell you to come along," commanded De Vere in anything but a pleasant mood. "You didn't tell me what you are going there for." "I have good reasons for going there. I want to get square with a fellow," responded Matthew, with a ring of revenge in his voice. "But couldn't you do it just as well alone?" "No, I couldn't." "Afraid?" queried Tim. This question did not have a good effect upon Matthew's nerves, but he was too prudent to fly into a passion with Tim at this time. "Who is this fellow?" asked young Short doggedly, after a little silence. "Fred Worthington," answered De Vere bitterly. "I'll show him that he can't interfere with me." "Fred Worthington!" echoed Tim; and he stopped short where he was. "I think we had better get some good clubs," said De Vere. "And then we will get the worst of it," replied Tim. "I know Fred Worthington too well to take any chances on him." "But we will jump out upon him when he is not expecting us," urged Matthew. It was hard work to screw Tim's courage up to the necessary point, but his sense of obligation to Matthew finally overcame his well founded fears of Fred Worthington's strong arms, and he promised to take part in the disappointed rival's dastardly plot. The point to which De Vere led his rascally associate was close beside the path along which Fred Worthington would have to pass on his way home from Dr. Dutton's. Although not far beyond the limits of the village, it was a lonely spot, with no houses near by, and the two young highwaymen could not have found a more suitable place to put their cruel design into execution. Crouching behind the bushes, the cowardly pair lay in wait, each grasping a heavy stick in his hand, ready to dart out and rain revengeful blows upon their innocent victim. IV. The evening was a memorable one for Fred. His enjoyment had been far greater than he anticipated; and what a boy of sixteen will not anticipate is not worth considering. It seemed to him, as he left Grace Bernard's with a proud step and lightsome heart, that he had been blue over the society question for nothing, for, in fact, had he at this time possessed no friend save the single one whose arm now rested upon his own, he would have been fully satisfied. Perchance, in his boyish imaginings, he was more happy than he could ever be in after years, even though his brightest dreams should become a living reality. And it is but just to Fred to say that his fair companion, as they walked leisurely toward her home, was almost if not quite as happy as himself. This was the first time they had ever been out together in the evening, and as he somewhat timidly pressed her arm closely to his side, he felt all the pride of a hero in performing such delightful, if not dangerous, escort duty. But indeed there was danger enough awaiting him, though it lay in ambush, and he had not considered the possibility of its existence.