"Oh, that fellow? I think his name is Nolly. He's a book agent, and I promised to buy some histories from him," and Baxter pretended to yawn, as if he was not especially interested.
"You are not telling the truth, Baxter," answered Tom, undaunted by this show of nerve.
"Do you mean to say I lie, Rover? Take care, or you may be sorry for what you say!"
"You can't pull the wool over my eyes, Baxter. That man's name is no more Nolly than mine is George Washington or yours William McKinley."
"Isn't it? Then perhaps you know his real name."
"I do. His name is Arnold Baxter."
Had a bomb exploded at Baxter's ear he would not have appeared more astonished.
"Say, who told you that?" he demanded fiercely and caught Tom by the arm.
"Let go of me, Dan Baxter."
"I say, who told you that?"
"I heard his name in the woods. He was with the man who robbed my brother Dick of his watch, when we were at home."
"Stuff and nonsense!" growled the bully, but he was very pale, and his voice shook with emotion. "That man's name is William Nolly. He used to know my father. That is why I helped him along by giving him an order for the histories. I don't really want the books."
