r prisoner made his dash for freedom.

"That'll prove bad bus'ness for you," growled the duke, who was the
custodian of Tom.

"Not any worse than if you had got it," replied the youth, who was
thoroughly roused by his brutal treatment. He had been struck several
times, but could not believe the ruffians would dare put him to death in
revenge for the loss of the money, that is, provided they did recover it.

"Haven't you found it, Dick?" called the duke, forgetting the title of his
comrade.

"No, confound it! I don't know where to look for it."

"Where did you fling it?" demanded the duke of his captive.

"I shall not tell you; you may kill me first."

"Very well; take that!"

But Tom managed to dodge the blow, and, by a quick leap, freed himself of
the grip of his captor. The next minute he was off like a deer.

Possibly the tramp might have overtaken him, had he made the effort; but
he chose to let him go while he joined his friend in hunting for the
money.

They kept up the search for hours, and were then, obliged to give it up.
Afraid that the boy, who must have reached home long before, would bring
friends back, the tramps took their departure while the opportunity was
theirs, and were seen no more.

Tom Gordon did a brave thing. The moment he discovered he was not pursued,
he hid himself at the side of the road, and waited till the scamps
departed. Then, when the moon had risen, he stole back again, and,
remembering quite well where he had thrown the package of money, found it
with little difficulty, and reaching home without further incident, told
his stirring experience to his mother and aunt.

Chapter VII.

It will be admitted that Tom Gordon and Jim Travers had met with a pretty
stirring experience, as a result of the visit of the circus and menagerie
to Briggsville. Tom had not been able to attend the performance; but it
may be said he was favored with a little "circus" of his own, in which he
played the part of star performer. But all's well that ends well, and he
had the pleasure of walking into his humble home and turning over to his
mother the handsome reward paid for the restoration of Tippo Sahib,
comparatively unharmed, to the owner. He was so well liked by teacher and
playmates that all congratulated him. There was no jealousy of his good
fortune, for there was none more deserving, and, it may be added, no more
in need of the material help given by that one hundred dollars.