nterlaced each other
in an arch-way overhead. Whether from the sudden darkness or that he had
scented some hidden danger, Falcon slackened speed.

"What's wrong, Falcon?" cried Paul. "Get on--the sooner our journey's
ended, the sooner you'll have your supper. Now, then, old boy."

The horse was about to speed forward again, but scarcely were the words
from Paul's lips than a man sprang from the hedge and seized the bridle.

"Stop!" came a sharp, decisive voice, with a foreign accent, "Stop!"

Paul just caught a glimpse of the man's face in the half light. The
cheekbones were somewhat high, but narrowed down sharply at the chin. He
wore eyeglasses on the eyes, which seemed to Paul, in that swift glance
he caught of them, of a steely blue. He had a thick, military moustache,
drawn out to fierce points; but his chin was clean-shaven. Directly he
stopped the horse, a second man sprang to the other side of it. Paul
immediately concluded they were robbers.

"What do you want? I've got no money--at least, only a few coppers.
You're welcome to those, if you'll only let me ride on."

"We're not robbers," said the first man, who seemed to be the master of
the two, "and, therefore, we don't want your coppers. We've got one or
two questions to put to you. If you'll only answer them civilly, we'll
let you go your way. If you don't answer them----"

He broke off with a shrug of the shoulders to indicate the terrible fate
which might await the boy in the event of his declining to answer the
questions put to him.

"You're riding Mr. Moncrief's horse, Falcon?"

Paul wondered who the man was, and how he had come by his information.

"Yes, that's right. What of it?"

"How is it you are riding Falcon instead of Mr. Moncrief?"

Paul did not at once answer. He wondered whether by answering he would
be doing wrong. Yet what wrong could he do by speaking the truth. Paul
was an honest boy--as honest as the day--and detested falsehood of any
kind.

"Mr. Moncrief met with an accident--that's why," he answered doggedly.

"An accident"--the stranger exchanged glances with the other man.
"That's the reason he's been left behind, is it? You've come in his
stead--eh?"

Paul nodded. He felt somehow that he was giving Mr. Moncrief away, but
he could not help himself.

"Thought so. You're going to Mr. Walter Moncrief, his brother--eh?"

Paul remained silent. He felt that he had said too much already.

"Tongue-tied--eh? Well, I won't