CHAPTER XXI.

CATCHING A BURGLAR.

Carden had not the least suspicion that he was observed. The Tarbox

farm-house stood rather aloof from the village, and the barn, as we

have already stated, was at some distance from the house. He worked

away calmly, feeling that there was no danger of his being interfered

with.

At last he reached the box, and stooping lifted it complacently.

Mr. Tarbox became very much agitated when he saw his hoard in the

possession of the burglar.

"Can't we get at him?" he asked of Anak in an agitated whisper.

"No," whispered Anak. "Our best plan is to wait for him, and seize him

as he leaves the barn."

"But he will have my money."

"Of course he will. We will catch him with the stolen property in his

possession."

"But it isn't safe for him to have it."

"It won't be safe for him, I'm thinking," said Anak, dryly. "Don't you

see if we reveal ourselves now he will blow out the candle and remain

where he is, and we can't catch him in the dark. Ten to one he'll get

off with the money."

Tarbox saw that the giant was right. In spite of his agitation, he

couldn't help remarking that Anak spoke English with remarkable

ease—for a Norwegian, and he said so.

Anak laughed.

"Oh well," he said, "it's a good while since I was in Norway."

"Don't speak so loud, you two," said Charlie Davis, whose eye was glued

to the crevice. "He'll hear you."

"The boy is right," said Anak.

"Is he coming this way yet?" asked Tarbox, eagerly.

"Not yet; he is sitting down, counting the money."

Tarbox groaned.

"I—I'd like to choke him—the thief!" he muttered.

"Can't you find a better savings bank, friend Tarbox?" said Anak.

"I'm afraid of savings banks. They break sometimes," answered the

farmer.

"At any rate the money would be safer there than here, and you would

get interest for it besides. But for us, or rather for Charlie here,

who watched that rascal this afternoon, you'd have had to bid a long

good-by to your money."

"He's got through counting it," said Charlie, who was still watching,

"and he's putting it in his pocket."

"I shall never see it again!" murmured Tarbox, sadly.

"Oh, yes you will—we've got the man as secure as a rat in a rat-trap.

He'll have to come out this way, won't he?"

"Yes, he'll have to come up through the trap-door."

"If he hadn't the money, it would be well to fasten down the trap-door,

and keep him locked up there for the night. As it is, we shall have to

secure him, and carry him to the station-house ourselves."

"We might put him back under the barn after we've taken the money from

him," suggested Charlie Davis.

"He may have matches with him," said Anak, "and in that case he might

set the barn on fire out of revenge. He's an ugly customer, that

Carden, and is capable of anything."

"No, no, let him go!" said Tarbox, alarmed at the suggestion of losing

his barn by fire. "Take the money from him and send him off."

"No, no; we won't let him off so easy," said Anak. "There's another

matter we must inquire into. We must find out whether he is the man

that threw the rock at Robert's horse to-night. If so, he must be

punished for that."

Meanwhile, and this conversation took a much briefer time than may

be imagined, Carden had ascended the ladder, emerged through the

trap-door, which he had left open when he went down, and, with his

ill-gotten booty stowed away in his pockets, had reached the small door

by which he entered. He came out quite unconscious of danger, when he

felt a strong hand at his collar, and his startled look fell upon the

giant and his two companions.

"What's all this?" he asked, in affected bravado. "Let go of me, Anak."

"You villain!" exclaimed the farmer, furiously; "give me back my

money."

"Your money, old potato digger!" returned Carden. "Who's got your

money?"

"You have."

"It's a lie. How could I get hold of your money?"

"What have you been doing in the barn?" asked Anak.

"Lying down on the hay, if you must know," returned Carden. "I got

turned out of my boarding-place because I couldn't pay my board, and I

thought Old Turnip-Top here wouldn't mind my getting a free bed lying

on his hay."

"That's a lie," said Tarbox, in excitement; "you've got my money in

your pocket—three or four hundred dollars."

"Where did I get hold of it? Do you keep money in your barn?" sneered

the canvas man.

"Carden, it's no use pretending ignorance; you found out that our

friend here had money concealed under the barn floor—Charlie saw you

spying this afternoon—and you thought to-night would be a good chance

to secure it."

"So that boy blabbed about me, did he?" said Carden, with an evil

glance at Charlie. "He'd best look out, or I'll serve him as I did—"

Here he stopped short; but Charlie finished his sentence for him.

"As you did Rob to-night," he added; "that's what you mean."

"I don't know what you mean," said the canvas man, finding he had said

too much.

"You know well enough!" said Anak, sternly, for he liked Robert, and

was incensed against the man who had tried to do him such grievous

harm. "You know well enough what the boy means; you were seen in the

tent this evening, and it was you who threw the rock at Robert Rudd's

horse."

"You can't prove it, and it's a lie!" said Carden, defiantly.

"Make him give up the money," said the farmer, impatiently, for he

cared nothing for Carden's attempt to injure our hero.

"I'll give it up if you'll let me go," said the canvas man.

"You're not in a position to make terms," said Anak. "We promise

nothing."

"Then you won't get it," he returned, doggedly.

"We won't, eh?"

Anak, for he was the speaker, threw him down, and held his hands and

feet as in a vise, while Tarbox, at his invitation, thrust his hands

into the thief's pocket and drew out the gold and silver coins by

handfuls.

Carden ground his teeth, but he felt that resistance was vain. He was a

strong man, but Anak had the strength of three ordinary men, and he was

disposed to exert his strength to the utmost on this occasion, not only

because he was opposed to dishonesty, but because he had in his grasp

the man who had assaulted Robert.

"Have you got it all, Mr. Tarbox?" asked Anak.

"Wait and I will count it," answered the farmer.

"Some of the money was mine," growled Carden.

"Was it? How much?"

"Ten dollars," answered the canvas man, after a moment's thought.

"That's too thin, Carden, and doesn't tally with your first story. You

said you laid down on the hay in the barn because you had no money and

were turned out of your boarding-house."

"Oh, you're too smart," muttered the baffled thief.

"I think we shall prove too smart for you to-night. Well, Mr. Tarbox,

how about the money?"

"It's twenty-five cents short," said Tarbox, disturbed.

"Oh, well, if you have come as near it as that you are lucky. Now let

us be going."

"But I don't want to leave it here; some one may find it."

"You would be ruined if you didn't find it," said Anak, contemptuously.

"Will you let me up now?" asked Carden.

"Yes, I will let you up, but I won't let you go."

"Then I will lie here."

"If you can."

Despite his resistance Anak lifted him on his shoulders and bore him

off as easily as an ordinary man would carry a boy three years old.

"What are you going to do with me?" asked the canvas man.

"Deliver you over to the authorities," answered Anak; and this he did,

despite the alternate prayers and menaces of his captive.

My young readers will be pleased to hear that Carden passed the night

in the station-house and was arraigned for trial the next day before

the court, which was then in session.

"I'm much obleeged to you," Tarbox had the grace to say as they parted.

"And you won't have me arrested for trespass and assault, Mr. Tarbox?"

said Anak, laughing.

"No; you've done me a good service to-night."

"Take my advice and put your money in the bank to-morrow," said Anak.

Tarbox did so; not only the money which had so narrowly escaped being

stolen, but his other hoards were collected and carried to the nearest

savings bank, which was undoubtedly a wise act on the part of the

farmer.

The Young Circus Rider; or, the Mystery of Robert Rudd · 第 21 / 34 章