“It’s no use to try to kick up,” Piper stated warningly. “We’ve got you, and we’ll have to plug you if you try any tricks.”
Slowly comprehension seemed to creep into the man’s brain, and presently he made a weak effort, as if trying to sit up, but fell back with a smothered cry that ended in a groan.
“It’s pretty tough,” said Piper; “but you’ll have to make the best of it, my man. Fellows engaged in your line of business have to take their medicine when they run afoul of calamity. What’s your name?”
Until Sleuth had repeated this question three times the man made no attempt to reply. After the third demand he growled falteringly and harshly:
“Thanks,” said Piper. “I guess your picture is in the rogues’ gallery somewhere, and your identity will be learned all right when you’re placed on trial. We’ve disarmed you so you can’t make any sort of a fight of it, and we’re going to take you back to Oakdale. Our great regret is that you’re not Gentleman Jim.”
The man looked at them queerly. “Who’s Gentleman Jim?” he growled.
“Bluff,” said Piper—“pure bluff. He’s your pal, and, doubtless, the leader of the gang who broke into the Oakdale bank last night and blew open the vault. Poor job, that. It’s tough to be pinched without ever having lifted a dollar from that bank.”
“You’re a wise young brat!” sneered the man.
“Hark!” exclaimed Hooker at this moment, rising quickly to his feet. “I hear voices. It must be some of the searchers.”
“I hope so,” said Sleuth, who likewise could hear the sound of voices, evidently approaching. “I’ll keep this fellow covered, Roy. See who they are.”
It proved to be a posse headed by Constable Abel Hubbard. From this armed body of men the captive had fled, having discovered them ahead of him in the woods. Hooker, seeing and recognizing the men, raised a shout that brought them hurrying to the gully, and soon the two boys were vainly trying to answer a score of questions hurled at them promiscuously.
“Well, I swan to man!” spluttered Constable Hubbard when he presently understood the situation. “I swan to man, if these two younkers ain’t ketched one of the rascals! That’s purty clever work for boys, feller citizens.”
With scarcely an exception they agreed that it was, and Sleuth and Roy were showered with congratulations.