elled the man.

"Go on! Go on!" urged Morse. "Take to the woods! We'll deal with these
fellows!"

"Oh, you will, eh?" shouted Tom, and remembering his football days he
made a dive between Morse and Happy Harry for the man with the bag,
which he guessed contained the stolen money. The lad made a good
tackle, and grabbed Featherton about the legs. He went down in a heap,
with Tom on top. Our hero was feeling about for the valise, when he
felt a stunning blow on the back of his head. He turned over quickly to
see Morse in the act of delivering a second kick. Tom grew faint, and
dimly saw the leader of the gang reach down for the valise.

This gave our hero sudden energy. He was not going to lose everything,
when it was just within his grasp. Conquering, by a strong effort, his
feeling of dizziness, he scrambled to his feet, and made a grab for
Morse. The latter fended him off, but Tom came savagely back at him,
all his fighting blood up. The effects of the cowardly blow were
passing off.

The lad managed to get one hand on the handle of the bag.

"Let go!" cried Morse, and he dealt Tom a blow in the face. It
staggered the youth, but he held on grimly, and raised his left hand
and arm as a guard. At the same time he endeavored to twist the valise
loose from Morse's hold. The man raised his foot to kick Tom, but at
that moment there was a curious hissing sound, and a stream of frothy
liquid shot over the lad's head right into the face of the man,
blinding him.

"Ha! Take that! And more of it!" shouted Mr. Damon, and a second stream
of seltzer squirted into the face of Morse.

With a yell of rage he let go his hold of the satchel, and Tom
staggered back with it. The lad saw Mr. Damon rushing toward the now
disabled leader, playing both bottles of seltzer on him. Then, when all
the liquid was gone the eccentric man began to beat Morse over the head
and shoulders with the heavy bottles until the scoundrel begged for
mercy.

Tom was congratulating himself on his success in getting the bag when
Happy Harry, the tramp, rushed at him.

"I guess I'll take that!" he roared, and, wheeling Tom around, at the
same time striking him full in the face, the ugly man made a grab for
the valise.

His hand had hardly touched it before he went down like a log, the
sound of a powerful blow causing Tom to look up. He saw Mr. Sharp
standing over the prostrate tramp, who had been cleanly knocked out.

"Are you all right, Tom?" asked