Then the professor slackened his speed, and allowed the pursuers to
overtake him.

"I say, stranger," said Fox, as he drew up alongside. "A boy ran away
from me this morning. Perhaps you have seen him?"

"I saw a boy about a mile back" said the magician, reflectively, "a
stout, good-looking lad, dark-brown hair, and a pleasant expression;
didn't look at all like you. I chatted with him a while. He said he
was leaving a man who claimed to be his guardian, but wasn't."

"The young liar!" ejaculated Fox, wrathfully. "Where is he now?"

"Is he in your wagon?" put in Joel, sharply.

"If he were you'd see him, wouldn't you?"

"In behind you?"

"Yes, are you kidnapping him?" demanded Fox, fiercely.

"There is a boy in the back part of my wagon," said the magician,
coolly. "If you ain't afraid of smallpox, you may see him. Which shall
it be, you or the boy?"

A pallid hue overspread the face of John Fox, which was increased by
an agonizing moan, which appeared to proceed from behind the magician.

"Turn the horse, Joel," was all he said.