wherever it was. Tom was a shrewd reasoner, and he soon evolved a theory which he afterward learned was the correct one. He reasoned out almost every step in the crime of which he was the victim, and at last came to the conclusion that the men had stolen up behind the shed and attacked him.
"Now, the next question to settle," spoke Tom, "is to learn where I am. How far did those scoundrels carry me, and what has become of my motor-cycle?"
He walked toward the point of the shed where he could observe the stars gleaming, and there he lifted some more matches, hoping he might see his machine. By the gleam of the little flame he noted that he was in a farmyard, and he was just puzzling his brain over the question as to what city or town he might be near when he heard a voice shouting:
"Here, what you lightin' them matches for? You want to set the place afire? Who be you, anyhow—a tramp?"
It was unmistakably the voice of a farmer, and Tom could hear footsteps approaching on the run.
"Who be you, anyhow?" the voice repeated. "I'll have the constable after you in a jiffy if you're a tramp."
