"No, you're going the wrong way," replied Dick. "Centreville is behind you." "Huh! That's funny!" some one remarked. "We must be all twisted up. Wait a second, will you," and from the darkness could be heard footsteps quickly approaching. CHAPTER XXV INTO THE LONELINESS "Have you the time?" It was the voice of one of those who were approaching our hero and his two chums, they having come to a halt at the request for information. "Oh, what does it matter?" some one else asked, and then Dick could see that three men were hurrying toward them out of the darkness. "I just wanted to see how late it was," went on the one who had apparently spoken first. "Sorry to trouble you," he added, "but we're strangers here, and we seem to have lost our way." "It's no trouble--if we can direct you," said the young millionaire. "We're strangers here ourselves." "It's a little after eleven," announced Paul, looking at his watch as well as he could by the starlight. As he spoke one of the men made a sudden motion toward him. "Not him! The other!" some one exclaimed sharply. Before the three knew what was happening they were seized by the three men--seized and roughly mauled. "Here! What does this mean?" demanded Dick, hotly, as he struck out vigorously. "It's a hold-up!" yelled Innis. "Lay into 'em, fellows!" "Let go of me!" insisted Paul, as he swung himself loose from his antagonist and dealt him a stinging blow that staggered the fellow. The man, with a smothered exclamation, recovered himself, and rushed back at Paul. In the meanwhile Innis and his assailant were having a tussle. As for Dick, after that first outcry, he had held his voice, but he was struggling desperately with the man in the darkness. He could feel hands moving over his body, inserting themselves in his various pockets. "They're thieves!" he cried. "Help! Help!" There was no answer save the echo of his own voice, broken by the panting breaths of the three men, who seemed to want to do their work in silence. By a powerful right-hand swing Paul sent his man to the ground with a thud that knocked the breath from his body, and the fellow did not get up again immediately. "Let go of me!" yelled Innis. "Keep your hands out of my pockets!" He tore himself loose from the man's grip, and shoved the fellow aside, so that he fell on top of the one Paul had knocked down. "Help! Help!" yelled Innis. "Thieves! Grit! Grit!" "Grit isn't here!" panted Dick, wishing with all his heart that his pet had not been left in the garage to keep watch and ward over the auto. Our hero was struggling fiercely with his man. By this time the one Paul had knocked down was getting up, being assisted by the fellow Innis had pushed from him. Dick managed to get one arm free and he dashed his clenched fist full into the face of his attacker. He could feel the force of the blow, and he knew he must have caused the footpad considerable pain, for there was a grunt of protest.