At this direct question Arnold Baxter scowled darkly. "Yes, if you are anxious to know it," he muttered.
"I fancied as much. You tried to swindle him out of some Western mining property."
"The boot was on the other leg—he tried to swindle me—ran off to Africa with my papers, I think, or else left them somewhere where I can't find them."
"I do not believe you, for my father was an honest man, while you are the boon companion of a thief."
"Have a care, boy—I won't stand everything!" snarled Arnold Baxter, his eyes gleaming like those of an angry cat.
"I am not afraid of you, Arnold Baxter. I shall hand you over to the police at our first stopping place!"
"Will you!" hissed the man, and leaped at Dick, bearing him down to the car floor. At once his hand sought the lad's throat.
"I've a good mind to choke the life out of you," he went on. "I hate you all—everyone who bears the name of Rover!"
"Le—let up!" gasped Dick, growing purple in the face, while his eyes bulged from their sockets.
"I'll pitch you off!" was Arnold Baxter's answer, and suddenly he lifted Dick up in his
