CHAPTER III.

JOE IS ACCUSED OF A CRIME.

The tramp did not mean that he should be captured. The summer was at

its height, and during this portion of the year tramps hate to be sent

to jail.

In the winter they do not mind it so much, for then they are assured of

a warm place to stay and enough to eat.

But Joe had made up his mind to capture the tramp.

He held on with a great grip, and in vain the vagabond tried to shake

him off.

“Let me git after him with the broom!” shrieked Susan Arkley, dancing

about.

While Joe was struggling old Josiah Arkley went after the tramp who had

been shot.

This fellow was full of rage, and now he threatened to injure the

farmer’s head with a rock.

It promised to be a lively time all around.

But Joe soon settled matters, so far as it concerned the man with whom

he was wrestling.

He broke loose, and then the fellow received a blow in the face that

made him shriek with pain.

In the meantime Josiah Arkley had struck the other tramp with the end

of the blunderbuss. Susan had followed with half a dozen whacks from

the broom, and now the chap was pleading for mercy.

“Give a feller a show ter live!” he groaned. “Oh! me head! Don’t hit me

agin!”

“Now, Susan, stand guard over him till I git a rope,” went on old

Josiah.

He disappeared into the barn and soon came out with ropes and old bits

of harness. With these the tramp was secured, hands and feet.

“Good for you, Joe,” exclaimed the old farmer, when he saw what our

hero had accomplished.

“Bind him, too, Mr. Arkley.”

“Sure, Joe, sure,” was the reply, and soon the second tramp was a

prisoner.

Both were dragged into the barn and there bound fast to rings in

separate stalls.

The old farmer would take no chances of their escaping while he went to

notify the authorities.

The tramps in custody, Joe told the farmer about the accident at the

bridge.

Josiah Arkley at once agreed to let Joe have his large farm wagon and a

team.

This would give the two boys plenty of room for themselves and their

bicycles.

“You can put the team up in Mr. Burns’ barn, and I’ll be over for it

to-morrow,” said the farmer.

This was agreed to, and Joe drove off, taking Josiah Arkley with him

until the turn in the road beyond the heavy trees was reached.

Then the farmer left him to walk to the next village for a constable,

while Joe turned the team toward the river.

Our hero found Dick where he had left him.

“You have been gone a long time, Joe,” cried Dick. “I thought you were

never coming back.”

“That’s so; I had something happen that I didn’t look for,” returned

Joe.

And as he helped Dick into the wagon on the top of a number of

blankets, he told his friend of what had occurred. Dick was much

astonished.

“It’s a good job done to capture those tramps,” he remarked. “Father

says the law against them isn’t half strong enough.”

Joe piled the two bicycles on the back of the wagon. Dick’s was sadly

bent and would have to be sent away for repairs.

“Never mind,” said the lawyer’s son. “I am very thankful we both

escaped with our lives.”

“And so am I,” said Joe with a shudder, as he started the team off.

On they jogged slowly until the few lights of the town appeared in

sight. By this time Dick was much fatigued, and Joe had to drive slower

than ever.

When they turned into the Burns garden the house door opened and the

lawyer came out.

“Hullo! I thought it was Dick returning,” he called out.

“It is I, father,” replied the son. “We’ve been in a smash-up.”

At once the lawyer came down, and soon his wife and Carrie Burns

followed.

Dick was helped out of the wagon and almost carried into the house,

where he was made comfortable on his bed.

Dick told the lawyer about the team, and Mr. Burns willingly consented

to keep it over night.

“And I’ll pay Mr. Arkley, too,” he said.

Joe put the team up and was on the point of leaving, when a man rushed

up to the house.

It was Simon Pepper, the village watchmaker. He kept a small store on

the main street, filled with watches, clocks, and cheap jewelry.

“Ha! I have you!” he cried, running up to Joe and catching our hero by

the arm.

“What’s the matter, Mr. Pepper?” asked Joe in surprise.

“You know well enough what’s the matter,” fumed the watchmaker. He was

a little man and of a very excitable nature.

“I must say I haven’t the slightest idea,” returned Joe.

“Indeed!” was the sneering return. “Maybe you haven’t been around my

shop.”

“I was around there yesterday to get our clock.”

“Exactly; and you asked me about my highest-priced jewelry, too.”

“I asked about the jewelry. I want to save up and get my mother a pin

for her birthday.”

“Just so, just so. And you took that key, you rascal!”

“What key?”

“You know well enough. Oh, you are a smart boy, Joe Johnson, but you

can’t play any such trick on me.”

And in his rage Simon Pepper shook his fist in Joe’s face.

“Mr. Pepper, won’t you explain yourself?” put in Mr. Burns curiously.

“Of course, of course, Mr. Burns, in a minute! But I can’t stand it to

have this young rascal act so cool about it! Just as if he didn’t know

a word!”

“And I don’t know a word,” added Joe promptly.

“Well, maybe you’ll know more when you are behind the bars! Do you

hear? Behind the bars! I came to see Mr. Burns about the case.”

“A case against Joe?” asked the lawyer.

“Precisely, Mr. Burns.”

“What has he done?”

“Done enough to send him to State’s prison for ten years.”

“Impossible!”

“It is false!” burst from Joe’s lips. The lad could scarcely believe

his ears.

“It ain’t false; it’s true. Yesterday he was in my store and stole the

key to the back door. To-night he has been in there and robbed me of

nigh on to a hundred dollars’ worth of jewelry. I’m going to have him

arrested, and then I’m going to get a warrant and search his home.”

“I never stole a thing in my life!” ejaculated Joe.

“I can prove it, boy, I can prove it! Do you know why? Because I found

your knife back of the very showcase that was robbed. You used that

knife to throw the catch back on the lock. Don’t you dare to deny it,

or attempt to run away!”

The rival bicyclists · 第 3 / 38 章