Stanley Heath might escape and take the jewels with him--escape to some other part of the world and pass on to a larger and more competent party of criminal investigators the unenviable task of arresting him.
Elisha was quite willing to forego the honor.
No longer did he desire to see his picture emblazoned on the front pages of the papers or behold his name in print. If he could shrink back into being merely a humble, insignificant citizen of Cape Cod, it was all he asked.
As he turned to reënter the house, Eleazer hailed him.
"I've had the devil of a time with this revolver," announced he, puffing into the yard and jauntily flourishing the weapon.
"Take care, Eleazer! Don't you go pointin' that thing at me!" Elisha yelled.
"I ain't pointin' it at you. Even if I was, there'd be no chance of it hurtin' you. 'Tain't loaded."
"That's the kind that always goes off," the sheriff insisted. "For Heaven's sake, wheel it the other way, can't you? Or else aim it at the ground."
"Wal, since you're so 'fraid of it, I will. But for all that, there ain't an atom of danger." Then regarding his comrade's greenish countenance, he remarked abruptly, "Say, what's the matter with you, 'Lish? You ain't got on your other suit, nor your badge, nor nothin'. What in thunder have you been doin' all this time? I've been gone 'most an hour."
"Wal, if that ain't the ole Harry!" fumed Eleazer. "That's goin' to ball us all up. There's no use doin' this thing if it ain't done in bang-up style. We don't want a lot of city cops jeerin' at us. We got to get that badge soddered an' them handcuffs unlocked 'fore another move can be made. I s'pose mebbe Nate Harlow over to Belleport could help us out."
"An' go blabbin' all over town the predicament the Wilton sheriff was in? No--sir--ee! Not if I know it. I wouldn't turn to a Belleport man for aid was the criminal to rush from hidin' an' go free. The only thing to do is to motor to Sawyer Falls an' hunt up Pete McGrath, the blacksmith. He's a wizard with tools. I never knew no job to stump him yet. He'll know what to do. The notion of goin' over there ain't such a bad one, neither, 'cause Artie Nickerson, the station-master's, got a relation on the Chicago police force an' had oughter be able to give us a few pointers 'bout how folks is arrested."