AN EXCITING HOUR
“DO you suppose that man is one of the robbers?” asked Sammy.
“I don’t know about that,” replied Bob. “But he doesn’t act right.”
“No, he isn’t any more lame than I am,” declared Frank.
“Just look at him,” spoke Bob, quickly.
Some one was coming down the street. The minute the man saw the boys
were following him, he began to act like a weak old man. He spoke to
the other man in a whining kind of a tone. Bob cut across a yard to
head off the man the stranger had spoken to. He found him to be Mr.
Dale, the village postmaster.
“Oh, Mr. Dale,” spoke Bob, “will you please tell me what that man who
stopped you just now said to you?”
“Oh, is that you, Bob? Why, yes, he is a beggar and he asked me for
a nickel. He says he is trying to get to Bartonville. Was hurt in an
accident, he told me, and his eyesight is nearly gone. Do you know him?”
“No, sir, I was just curious about him. Thank you, Mr. Dale.”
Bob bolted off and got back to his friends. He told them what Mr. Dale
had said. Then he added:
“Now, then, fellows, we’re going to follow that man. I feel sure he
isn’t honest.”
“I don’t think so, either,” said Frank.
“Keep close inside the yards. We don’t want to have him suspect that
we’re after him.”
Frank and Sammy did just as Bob told them to do. Sammy was in his
element. He found himself in the midst of a mystery, as he called it,
and was greatly excited.
The man they were following kept along the street. The boys skulked
from place to place inside of yards and across vacant lots. They knew
the neighborhood well, and were never at a loss to get ahead.
When the man came to where the streets were more deserted and the
houses further apart, he began to move faster.
“See that,” said Bob. “He can walk straight as an arrow when he wants
to!”
“Oh, yes, he is just putting on his lameness and all that,” added Frank.
“Say, fellows,” whispered Sammy, “see where he’s going now!”
They had reached the edge of the town. The man ahead of them had
crossed a stretch that was a lonely patch of high weeds and bushes.
“He’s making for the schoolhouse,” said Frank.
“That’s what he is,” spoke Sammy.
“No—see,” added Bob, “he’s stopped near the old water hole where they
used to graze the cattle.”
The three boys were crowded up against a fence, and kept staring after
the man and noticing every move he made. He stood still near the spot
Bob had mentioned. Then he put his fingers to his lips.
The boys caught the echo of a soft birdlike call. They breathlessly
watched the man’s figure as it stood outlined against the sky. Then in
a minute or two there came a reply to the whistle.
“This is getting exciting,” said Frank.
“Listen,” ordered Bob.
The man they had followed replied to the last whistle. Then the boys
saw another man come from some shrubbery just beyond the schoolhouse
wall.
“Oh, my!” gasped Bob.
“What is it?” whispered Frank.
“Don’t you see?”
“What?”
“The last man! He’s carrying two satchels!”
“Why, then,” said Sammy, “they’ve got the stolen jewelry in them!”
“S-sh!” warned Bob.
He was terribly excited. Not for an instant did he doubt that the
satchels held the plunder of which the robbers had rifled Mr. Haven’s
jewelry store. Bob thought it out this way: These two men were the
thieves. They had not risked carrying their plunder away from Fairview,
knowing they would be pursued, but had hidden it. Then they had gone
into hiding themselves. The tramp whom Bob knew had found shelter in
Silas Dolby’s barn. The other man had found safety in some other spot.
“Now, then,” spoke Bob, quickly, “you, Sammy.”
“Yes?” replied Sammy, on pins and needles of excitement.
“Run as fast as you can to town, and tell the marshal that the jewelry
store robbers are down here near the schoolhouse.”
“You bet I’ll run!” said Sammy. “But will they be here when we get
back?”
“Probably not, but they won’t be far away.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I will keep them in sight, and Frank will help me.”
“Oh, I hope we catch them!” said Sammy.
“Don’t delay.”
“I won’t.”
Sammy sneaked along the fence until he got out of range of the men.
Then he arose to his feet, and got out of sight in the direction of the
village in a flash.
“What are those men doing now?” asked Frank, a moment later.
Bob craned his neck and bent his ear. He could hear only the vague
murmur of voices. He could not make out any clear words. The last man
to come on the scene kept the satchels, one in each hand. Finally the
two men started off. They seemed to be wrangling about something.
“Frank,” said Bob, “all we’ve got to do now is not to lose sight of
those men.”
“Till the marshal catches up with us,” replied Frank.
“I’m going to get nearer to them.”
“It’s risky.”
“Well, I want to find out all I can.”
“What shall I do?”
“Follow very slowly. If they see me or anything happens we don’t
expect, don’t you lose sight of them till the marshal comes.”
“All right, Bob. Oh, I do hope they are the people you think they are,
and that father is going to get back his property!”
Bob now began crawling flat on the ground across the open field. When
he came to where the weeds or bushes were high he ran a bit, but kept
stooping as low as he could all of the time.
In this way, Bob had gained quite a little on the men. Once they
rested, near a little clump of shrubbery just beyond the schoolhouse.
The man Bob believed to be the tramp went ahead, as if seeing if the
road was clear. The other man sat down on one of the satchels, and the
boy got quite near to him.
“It’s the man I saw in the hide-out!” whispered Bob to himself. “It’s
the man with the green shade over his eye! Now I am sure these men are
the fellows who broke into the jewelry store.”
“I guess it’s safe to go on,” said the tramp, coming back to his friend.
“All right.”
“Here, I’ll carry one of the satchels.”
“Oh, no; they’re not heavy.”
“But I want to.”
“Well, you can’t, and I won’t let you.”
“Huh!” said the tramp in an angry way, “what’s the matter with you?”
“Well, for one thing, I know you,” said the other man.
“Oh, do you?”
“Yes, I do. I shan’t drop these satchels till we get to where the man
who hired us is waiting for us.”
“It’s two miles away.”
“I don’t care if it’s ten miles away. If you got your paws on one of
these satchels, you might bolt with it.”
“Well, I’ve done some of the work, haven’t I? Who found the key to the
jewelry store?”
“You did, and our boss will pay you well for your share of the work,
but you don’t handle these satchels.”
“I bet I do!”
The tramp suddenly sprang at his companion, but the other was too quick
for him. The man with the green shade over his eye sprang to his feet.
He whirled one satchel around. It struck the tramp on the head and
swept him to the ground.
The man with the green shade over his eye at once picked up the two
satchels, and started on a run. In a minute he was around the corner
of the schoolhouse and out of sight. The tramp sprang to his feet with
an angry cry.
Bob did not dare to move from the shelter of the shrubbery at once.
He thought he heard something drop around on the other side of the
schoolhouse. As the tramp ran around its end, Bob hurried forward and
peered towards the road.
“Why,” said Bob, in great surprise, “what has become of the satchels?”
He could see the man in the lead about two hundred yards away, as he
jumped into a ditch and was gone from sight. The tramp was putting
after him as fast as he could. One thing was sure: neither of them had
the satchels.
“Where could they have gone to?” Bob asked himself.
He ran to the road. The tramp was standing in the middle of it, at a
loss where to go. The other man was nowhere to be seen. Finally the
tramp ran into some woods lining the road, on a search for the man who
had run away from him.
Frank, who had kept track of Bob in cautious stages, came up to him now.
“Where are they?” he asked.
“Somewhere in the woods,” answered Bob. “They have had a quarrel.”
“Yes, I noticed it.”
“We couldn’t do much if we caught up to them. Hark, Frank!”
Down the road beyond the schoolhouse echoed the sound of horses’ hoofs
and wagon wheels.
“It’s some one driving awfully fast,” said Frank.
“It must be the marshal! Yes, I think it is,” said Bob, peering down
the road.
Then he ran to the middle of the highway, and down it, waving his
arms. The wagon stopped, and Bob saw that it held the marshal, and
three other men, and Sammy.
“Where are those men, Bob?” asked the marshal, quickly.
Bob told enough to give the officer an idea of how things stood. The
marshal drove the wagon up to the side of the road, and then he and two
of the men who had come in the wagon started out to scour the woods.
Bob told Frank and Sammy about the two satchels being gone when he ran
around the schoolhouse corner. They at once began a search all about
the place and even out to the ditch, but found no trace of the valises.
“See here, Bob,” said Frank, “maybe the man threw them into the ditch,
jumped after them, and got away with them?”
“I hardly think that,” replied Bob. “He didn’t have them with him the
last sight I had of him.”
The boys had a long wait of it. It was over an hour before one of the
men came back.
“We’ve beat the woods in every direction,” he told them. “The marshal
and his aid have kept up the hunt. We’re to go back and start some more
men on the chase.”
Up to the time, two hours later, that Bob, Frank and Sammy stayed up,
no trace was found of the jewelry store robbers.