I were lying full length on the ground. We were quite helpless.

"Get up!" said the tramp in a husky, nasty voice. "I guess youse
thought we wasn't covering our trail? Well, we'll have to tie you
up, I reckon, while we get away with this Crystal Pallis of yourn."

I scrambled to my feet, but to my surprise the Professor continued
to lie at full length.

"Get up, deacon!" said the tramp again. "Get up on them graceful
limbs, _if_ you please."

I guess he thought himself safe from attack by a woman. At any rate,
he bent over as if to grab Mifflin by the neck. I saw my chance
and jumped on him from behind. I am heavy, as I have said, and he
sprawled on the ground. My doubts as to the pistol being loaded were
promptly dissolved, for it went off like a cannon. Nobody was in
front of it, however, and Mifflin was on his feet like a flash. He
had the ruffian by the throat and kicked the weapon out of his hand.
I ran to seize it.

"You son of Satan!" said the valiant Redbeard. "Thought you could
bully us, did you? Miss McGill, you were as quick as Joan of Arc.
Hand me the pistol, please."

I gave it to him, and he shoved it under the hobo's nose.

"Now," he said, "take off that rag around your neck."

The rag was an old red handkerchief, inconceivably soiled. The tramp