Fox even in his helpless condition.

"Have you a revolver?"

"Yes."

"Then take it out, and if he makes an effort to escape shoot him without a
moment's hesitation."

It gratified the outlaw to see how much afraid of him the farmer was, even
in his helpless condition. But he could not flatter himself that he had
inspired any terror in Luke Robbins. Against his will he was compelled to
pay tribute to the resolute courage of the Quaker detective. As he met the
gaze of the farmer he smiled to himself sardonically.

"You've got the advantage of me," he said. "I am bound and helpless, while
you are free and are armed. Still you are afraid of me."

"Why should I be?" asked Mason, but his tone was not firm.

"Yes, why should you be? I'll tell you. If ever I have you where I am now
I'll give you fifteen minutes to say your prayers."

"Oh, what a terrible man!" said Mrs. Mason with a shudder. "You wouldn't
kill him?"

"Yes, I would. But there is one way of escape."

"What is that?"

"Loose these bonds and let me go before your Quaker friend comes down and
your life will be safe, and your wife's."

Ezekiel Mason shook his head feebly.

"I don't dare to do it," he said.

"Do as you please, but the time will come when you will be sorry that you
refused. What are you afraid of? You are armed, while I have no weapon."

"I am afraid of Luke."

"You needn't be. He would find fault with you, but that would be all."

Ezekiel Mason was weak, but not weak enough to yield to the persuasions of
his prisoner. Besides, he knew that Luke would come down from the attic
directly.

In fact, he was already close at hand. He brought in his hand the cut
fragments of the cord with which the outlaw had originally been bound.

"This tells the story," he said, holding up the rope so that the farmer
and his wife could see it. "This rope has been cut. The man has a knife."

John Fox darted a malignant look at him, but said nothing.

"You are smart, John Fox," Luke went on, "smarter than I thought. Where is
your knife?"

John Fox did not reply.

Luke Robbins knelt down and thrust his hand unceremoniously into the
outlaw's pocket.

He drew out the knife which had done him so much service.

"This will be safer with me than with you," he said.

"Would you rob me?" demanded the outlaw.

"Yes, of anything it is not proper for you to have."

To John Fox the disappointment was bitter. He was, if anything, more
securely tied tha