And he rushed at Tom and aimed a blow at the boy's head with his stick.
Nolly also ran forward with his sandbag; and, seeing this, Tom leaped back, and was soon making tracks as fast as his legs could carry him.
The two men did not pursue him far. Instead, they turned and ran in the opposite direction.
Tom hurried on until he came within sight of a large farmhouse. Reaching the front door, he used the brass knocker vigorously.
Soon an upper window was raised, and the head of a middle-aged man was thrust out.
"Who is there?" he demanded.
"I want help, sir," answered Tom. "I am a pupil at Putnam Hall, and I have just spotted a fellow in this neighborhood who robbed my brother of a gold watch."
"Is that so!"
"Oh, papa, is it one of the boys Grace and I were telling you about?" came in the voice of Nellie Laning. "Aren't you Tom Rover?"
"Yes. This must be Mr. Laning."
"Yes, my boy, I am John Laning," answered the farmer. "I will be down in a moment. We are in the habit of retiring early."
In a few minutes Tom was let into the house, and he told his story to John Laning, his wife,
