have no money. I know better than that. I saw you pay the landlord."

"Then he saw the professor's pocketbook," thought Harry, uneasily. "Mine
is of different appearance. I hope he won't detect the difference."

"I hope you will leave me some of the money," said Harry, producing the
pocketbook.

"It is all I have."

"How much is there?"

"About forty dollars."

"Humph! that isn't much."

"It is all I have in the world."

"Pooh! you are young and can soon earn some more. I must have the whole
of it."

"Can't you leave me five dollars?"

"No, I can't. Forty dollars are little enough to serve my turn."

So saying, he coolly deposited the pocketbook in the pocket of his
pants.

"So far so good. It's well, youngster, you didn't make any more fuss,
or I might have had to use my little persuader;" and he displayed the
pistol.

"Will you let me go now, sir?"

"I have not got through my business yet. That's a nice overcoat of
yours."

Harry looked at him, in doubt as to his meaning, but he was soon
enlightened.

"I am a small person," proceeded the man with black whiskers, "scarcely
any larger than you. I think it'll be a good fit."

"Must I lose my overcoat, too?" thought Harry, in trouble.

"You've got an overcoat of your own, sir," he said.

"You don't need mine."

"Oh, I wouldn't rob you of yours on any account. A fair exchange is no
robbery. I am going to give you mine in exchange for yours."

The stranger's coat was rough and well worn, and, at its best, had been
inferior to Harry's coat. Our hero felt disturbed at the prospect of
losing it, for he could not tell when he could afford to get another.

"I should think you might be satisfied with the pocketbook," he said. "I
hope you will leave me my coat."

"Off with the coat, youngster!" was the sole reply.

"First, get out of the buggy. We can make the exchange better outside."

As opposition would be unavailing, Harry obeyed. The robber took from
him the handsome overcoat, the possession of which had afforded him
so much satisfaction, and handed him his own. In great disgust and
dissatisfaction our hero invested himself in it.

"Fits you as if it was made for you," said the stranger, with a short
laugh. "Yours is a trifle slow for me, but I can make it go. No, don't
be in such a hurry."

He seized Harry by the arm as he was about to jump into the carriage.

"I must go," said Harry. "You have already detained me some time."

"I intend