When Fred Sheldon turned on his heel and saw the outlines of the tramp in the room behind him he gave a start and exclamation of fear, as the bravest man might have done under the circumstances.
The intruder chuckled and said in his rasping, creaking voice:
"Don't be skeert, young man; if you keep quiet you won't get hurt, but if you go to yelping or making any sort of noise I'll wring your head as if you was a chicken I wanted for dinner."
Fred made no answer to this, when the tramp added, in the same husky undertone, as he stepped forward in a threatening way:
"Do you hear what I said?"
"Yes, sir; I hear you."
"Well, just step back through that door in t'other room and watch me while I look through this chest for a gold ring I lost last week."
Poor Fred was in a terrible state of mind, and, passing softly through the door opening into his bed-room, he paused by the chair where he had sat so long, and then faced toward the tramp, who said, by way of amendment:
"I forgot to say that if you try to climb out of the winder onto the porto rico or to sneak out any way I'll give you a touch of that."
As he spoke he suddenly held up a bull's-eye lantern, which poured a strong stream of light toward the boy. It looked as if he must have lighted it inside the house, and had come into the room with it under his coat.
While he carried this lantern in one hand he held a pistol, shining with polished silver, in the other, and behind the two objects the bearded face loomed up like that of some ogre of darkness.
The scamp did not seem to think this remark required anything in the way of response, and, kneeling before the huge oaken chest, he began his evil work.
For a few moments Fred was so interested that he ceased to reproach himself for having failed to do his duty.
The tramp set the lantern on the floor beside him, so that it threw its beams directly into the room where the boy stood.
The marauder, it must be said, did not act like a professional. One of the burglars who infest society to-day would have made short work with the lock, though it was of the massive and powerful kind, in use many years ago; but this person fumbled and worked a good while without getting it open.
He muttered impatiently to himself several times, and then caught up the bull's-eye, and, bending his head over, carefully examined it, to learn why it resisted his vigorous efforts.
The action of the man seemed to rouse Fred, who, without a moment's thought, stepped backward toward the open window at the rear, the one which had been raised all the time to afford ventilation.
He thought if the dreadful man should object, he could make excuse on account of the warmth of the night.
But the lad moved so softly, or the wicked fellow was so interested in his own work that he did not notice him, for he said nothing, and though Fred could see him no longer he could hear him toiling, with occasional mutterings of anger at his failure to open the chest, which was believed to contain so much valuable silverware and money.
The diverging rays from the dark-lantern still shot through the open door into the bed-room. They made a well-defined path along the floor, quite narrow and not very high, and which, striking the white wall at the opposite side, terminated in one splash of yellow, in which the specks of the whitewash could be plainly seen.
It was as if a great wedge of golden light lay on the floor, with the head against the wall and the tapering point passing through the door and ending at the chest in the other room.
While Fred Sheldon was looking at the curious sight he noticed something in the illuminated path. It would be thought that, in the natural fear of a boy in his situation, he would have felt no interest in it, but, led on by a curiosity which none but a lad feels, he stepped softly forward on tip-toe.
Before he stooped over to pick it up he saw that it was a handsome pocket-knife.
"He has dropped it," was the thought of Fred, who wondered how he came to do it; "anyway I'll hold on to it for awhile."
He quietly shoved it down into his pocket, where his old Barlow knife, his jewsharp, eleven marbles, two slate pencils, a couple of large coppers, some cake crumbs and other trifles nestled, and then, having succeeded so well, he again went softly to the open window at the rear.
Just as he reached it he heard an unusual noise in the smaller apartment where the man was at work, and he was sure the burglar had discovered what he was doing, and was about to punish him.
But the sound was not repeated, and the boy believed the tramp had got the chest open. If such were the fact, he was not likely to think of the youngster in the next room for several minutes more.
Fred was plucky, and the thought instantly came to him that he had a chance to leave the room and give an alarm; but to go to the front and climb out on the roof of the porch would bring him so close to the tramp that discovery would be certain.
At the rear there was nothing by which he could descend to the ground. It was a straight wall, invisible in the darkness and too high for any one to leap. He might hang down from the sill by his hands and then let go, but he was too unfamiliar with the surroundings to make such an attempt.
"Maybe there's a tub of water down there," he said to himself, trying to peer into the gloom; "and I might turn over and strike on my head into it, or it might be the swill barrel, and I wouldn't want to get my head and shoulders wedged into that——"
At that instant something as soft as a feather touched his cheek. The gentle night wind had moved the rustling limbs, so that one of them in swaying only a few inches had reached out, as it were, and kissed the chubby face of the brave little boy.
"Why didn't I think of that?" he asked himself, as he caught hold of the friendly limb. "I can hold on and swing to the ground."
It looked, indeed, as if such a movement was easy. By reaching his hand forward he could follow the limb until it was fully an inch in diameter. That was plenty strong enough to hold his weight.
Glancing around, he saw the same wedge of golden light streaming into the room, and the sounds were such that he was sure the burglar had opened the chest and was helping himself to the riches within.
The next minute Fred bent forward, and, griping the limb with both hands, swung out of the window. All was darkness, and he shut his eyes and held his breath with that peculiar dizzy feeling which comes over one when he cowers before an expected blow on the head.
The sensation was that of rushing into the leaves and undergrowth, and then, feeling himself stopping rather suddenly, he let go.
He alighted upon his feet, the distance being so shortthat he was scarcely jarred, and he drew a sigh of relief when he realized that his venture had ended so well.
"There," he said to himself, as he adjusted his clothing, "I ain't afraid of him now, I can outrun him if I only have a fair chance, and there's plenty of places where a fellow can hide."
Looking up to the house it was all dark; not a ray from the lantern could be seen, and the sisters were no doubt sleeping as sweetly as they had slept nearly every night for the past three-score years and more.
But Fred understood the value of time too well to stay in the vicinity while the tramp was engaged with his nefarious work above. If the law-breaker was to be caught, it must be done speedily.
But there were no houses near at hand, and it would take fully an hour to bring Archie Jackson, the constable, to the spot.
"The nearest house is Mike Heyland's, the hired man, and I'll go for him."
Filled with this thought, Fred moved softly around to the front, passed through the gate, entered the short lane, and began walking between the rows of trees in the direction of the highway.
An active boy of his age finds his most natural gait to be a trot, and Fred took up that pace.
"It's so dark here under these trees that if there's anything in the road I'll tumble over it, for I never miss——"
"Halloo there, you boy!"
As these startling words fell upon young Sheldon'sear, the figure of a man suddenly stepped out from the denser shadows and halted in front of the affrighted boy, who stopped short, wondering what it meant.
There was nothing in the voice and manner of the stranger, however, which gave confidence to Fred, who quickly rallied, and stepping closer, caught his hand with the confiding faith of childhood.
"O, I'm so glad to see you! I was afraid I'd have to run clear to Tottenville to find somebody."
"What's the matter, my little man?"
"Why, there's a robber in the house back there; he's stealing all the silver and money that belongs to the Misses Perkinpine, and they're sound asleep—just think of it—and he's got a lantern up there and is at work at the chest now, and said he would shoot me if I made any noise or tried to get away, but I catched hold of a limb and swung out the window, and here I am!" exclaimed Fred, stopping short and panting.
"Well now, that's lucky, for I happen to have a good, loaded pistol with me. I'm visiting Mr. Spriggins in Tottenville, and went out fishing this afternoon, but stayed longer than I intended, and was going home across lots when I struck the lane here without knowing exactly where I was; but I'm glad I met you."
"So'm I," exclaimed the gratified Fred; "will you help me catch that tramp?"
"Indeed I will; come on, my little man."
The stranger stepped off briskly, Fred close behind him, and passed through the gate at the front of the old brick house, which looked as dark and still as though no living person had been in it for years.
"Don't make any noise," whispered the elder, turning part way round and raising his finger.
"You needn't be afraid of my doing so," replied the boy, who was sure the caution was unnecessary.
Fred did not notice the fact at the time that the man who had come along so opportunely seemed to be quite familiar with the place, but he walked straight to a rear window, which, despite the care with which it had been fastened down, was found to be raised.
"There's where he went in," whispered Fred's friend, "and there's where we're going after him."
"All right," said Fred, who did not hesitate, although he could not see much prospect of his doing anything. "I'll follow."
The man reached up and catching hold of the sash placed his feet on the sill and stepped softly into the room. Then turning so his figure could be seen plainly in the moonlight, he said in the same guarded voice:
"He may hear me coming, do you, therefore, go round to the front and if he tries to climb down by way of the porch, run round here and let me know. We'll make it hot for him."
This seemed a prudent arrangement, for it may be said, it guarded all points. The man who had just entered would, prevent the thieving tramp from retreating by the path he used in entering, while the sharp eyes of the boy would be quick to discover him the moment he sought to use the front window.
"I guess we've got him," thought Fred, as he took his station by the front porch and looked steadilyupward, like one who is studying the appearance of a new comet or some constellation in the heavens; "that man going after him ain't afraid of anything, and he looks strong and big enough to take him by the collar and shake him, just as Mr. McCurtis shakes us boys when he wants to exercise himself."
For several minutes the vigilant Fred was in a flutter of excitement, expecting to hear the report of firearms and the sound of struggling on the floor above.
"I wonder if Miss Annie and Lizzie will wake up when the shooting begins," thought Fred; "I don't suppose they will, for they are so used to sleeping all night that nothing less than a big thunder-storm will start them—but it seems to me it's time that something took place."
Young Sheldon had the natural impatience of youth, and when ten minutes passed without stirring up matters, he thought his friend was too slow in his movements.
Besides, his neck began to ache from looking so steadily upward, so he walked back in the yard some distance, and leaning against a tree, shoved his hands down in his pockets and continued the scrutiny.
This made it more pleasant for a short time only, when he finally struck the happy expedient of lying down on his side and then placing his head upon his hand in such an easy position that the ache vanished at once.
Fifteen more minutes went by, and Fred began to wonder what it all meant. It seemed to him that fullyan hour had gone since stationing himself as a watcher, and not the slightest sound had come back to tell him that any living person was in the house.
"There's something wrong about this," he finally exclaimed, springing to his feet; "maybe the tramp got away before I came back; but then, if that's so, why didn't the other fellow find it out long ago?"
Loth to leave his post, Fred moved cautiously among the trees a while longer, and still failing to detect anything that would throw light on the mystery, he suddenly formed a determination, which was a rare one, indeed, for a lad of his years.
"I'll go in and find out for myself!"
Boy-like, having made the resolve, he acted upon it without stopping to think what the cost might be. He was in his bare feet, and it was an easy matter for a little fellow like him to climb through an open window on the first floor without making a noise.
When he got into the room, however, where it was as dark as the darkest midnight he ever saw, things began to appear different, that is so far as anything can be said to appear where it is invisible.
He could see nothing at all, and reaching out his hands, he began shuffling along in that doubting manner which we all use under such circumstances.
He knew that he was in the dining-room, from which it was necessary to pass through a door into the broad hall, and up the stairs to the spare room, where it was expected he would sleep whenever he favored the twin maiden sisters with a visit.
He could find his way there in the dark, but he was afraid of the obstructions in his path.
"I 'spose all the chairs have been set out of the way, 'cause Miss Annie and Lizzie are very particular, and they wouldn't——"
Just then Fred's knee came against a chair, and before he could stop himself, he fell over it with a racket which he was sure would awaken the ladies themselves.
"That must have jarred every window in the house," he gasped, rubbing his knees.
He listened for a minute or two before starting on again, but the same profound stillness reigned. It followed, as a matter of course, that the men up-stairs had heard the tumult, but Fred consoled himself with the belief that it was such a tremendous noise that they would mistake its meaning altogether.
"Any way, I don't mean to fall over any more chairs," muttered the lad, shuffling along with more care, and holding his hands down, so as to detect such an obstruction.
It is hardly necessary to tell what followed. Let any one undertake to make his way across a dark room, without crossing his hands in front and the edge of a door is sure to get between them.
Fred Sheldon received a bump which made him see stars, but after rubbing his forehead for a moment he moved out into the broad hall, where there was no more danger of anything of the kind.
The heavy oaken stairs were of such solid structure that when he placed his foot on the steps they gave backno sound, and he stepped quite briskly to the top without making any noise that could betray his approach.
"I wonder what they thought when I tumbled over the chair," pondered Fred, who began to feel more certain than before that something was amiss.
Reaching out his hands in the dark he found that the door of his own room was wide open, and he walked in without trouble.
As he did so a faint light which entered by the rear window gave him a clear idea of the interior.
With his heart beating very fast Fred tip-toed toward the front until he could look through the open door into the small room where the large oaken chest stood.
By this time the moon was so high that he could see the interior with more distinctness than before.
All was still and deserted; both the men were gone.
"That's queer," muttered the puzzled lad; "if the tramp slipped away, the other man that I met on the road ought to have found it out; but what's become of him?"
Running his hand deep down among the treasures in his trousers pocket, Fred fished out a lucifer match, which he drew on the wall, and, as the tiny twist of flame expanded, he touched it to the wick of the candle that he held above his head.
The sight which met his gaze was a curious one indeed, and held him almost breathless for the time.
The lid of the huge chest was thrown back against the wall, and all that was within it were rumpled sheets of old brown paper, which had no doubt been used as wrappings for the pieces of the silver tea-service.
On the floor beside the chest was a large pocket-book, wrong side out. This, doubtless, had once held the money belonging to the old ladies, but it held it no longer.
Money and silverware were gone!
"The tramp got away while we were down the lane," said Fred, as he stood looking at the signs of ruin about him; "but why didn't my friend let me know about it, and where is he?"
Fred Sheldon stopped in dismay, for just then the whole truth came upon him like a flash.
These two men were partners, and the man in the lane was on the watch to see that no strangers approached without the alarm being given to the one inside the house.
"Why didn't I think of that?" mentally exclaimed the boy, so overcome that he dropped into a chair, helpless and weak, holding the candle in hand.
It is easy to see how natural it was for a lad of his age to be deceived as was Fred Sheldon, who never in all his life had been placed in such a trying position.
He sat for several minutes looking at the open chest, which seemed to speak so eloquently of the wrong it had suffered, and then he reproached himself for having failed so completely in doing his duty.
"I can't see anything I've done," he thought, "which could have been of any good, while there was plenty of chances to make some use of myself if I had any sense about me."
Indeed there did appear to be some justice in the self-reproach of the lad, who added in the same vein:
"I knew, the minute he stopped to ask questions at our front gate, that he meant to come here and rob the house, and I ought to have started right off for Constable Jackson, without running to tell the folks. Then they laughed at me and I thought I was mistaken, even after I had seen him peeping through the window. When he was eating his supper I was sure of it, and then I should have slipped away and got somebody else here to help watch, but we didn't have anything to shoot with, and when I tried to keep guard I fell asleep, and when I woke up I was simple enough to think there was only one way of his coming into the house, and, while I had my eye on that, he walked right in behind me."
Then, as Fred recalled his meeting with the second party in the lane, he heaved a great sigh.
"Well, I'm the biggest blockhead in the country—that's all—and I hope I won't have to tell anybody the whole story. Halloo!"
Just then he happened to think of the pocket-knife he had picked up on the floor, and he drew it out of his pocket. Boy-like, his eyes sparkled with pleasure when they rested on the implement so indispensable to every youngster, and which was much the finest one he had ever had in his hand.
The handle was pearl and the two blades were of the finest steel and almost as keen as a razor.
Fred set the candle on a chair, and leaning over, carefully examined the knife, which seemed to grow in beauty the more he handled it.
"The man that dropped that is the one who stole allthe silverware and money, and there's the letters of his name," added the boy.
True enough. On the little piece of brass on the side of the handle were roughly cut the letters, "N. H. H."
When Fred Sheldon had spent some minutes examining the knife he had picked up from the floor, he opened and closed the blades several times, and finally dropped it into his pocket, running his hand to the bottom to make sure there was no hole through which the precious implement might be lost.
"I think that knife is worth about a thousand dollars," he said, with a great sigh; "and if Aunt Lizzie and Annie don't get their silverware and money back, why they can hold on to the jack-knife."
At this juncture it struck the lad as a very strange thing that the two ladies should sleep in one part of the house and leave their valuables in another. It would have been more consistent if they had kept the chest in their own sleeping apartment, but they were very peculiar in some respects, and there was no accounting for many things they did.
"Maybe they went in there!" suddenly exclaimed Fred, referring to the tramp and his friend. "They must have thought it likely there was something in their bed-room worth hunting for. I'll see."
He felt faint at heart at the thought that the good ladies had been molested while they lay unconscious inbed, but he pushed his way through the house, candle in hand, with the real bravery which was a part of his nature.
His heart was throbbing rapidly when he reached the door of their apartment and softly raised the latch.
But it was fastened from within, and when he listened he distinctly heard the low, gentle breathing of the good souls who had slumbered so quietly all through these exciting scenes.
"I am so thankful they haven't been disturbed," said Fred, making his way back to his own room, where he blew out his light, said his prayers and jumped into bed.
Despite the stirring experiences through which he had passed, and the chagrin he felt over his stupidity, Fred soon dropped into a sound slumber, which lasted until the sun shone through the window.
Even then it was broken by the gentle voice of Aunt Lizzie, as she was sometimes called, sounding from the foot of the stairs.
Fred was dressed and down in a twinkling, and in the rushing, headlong, helter-skelter fashion of youngsters of his age, he told the story of the robbery that had been committed during the night.
The old ladies listened quietly, but the news was exciting, indeed, and when Aunt Lizzie, the mildest soul that ever lived, said:
"I hope you are mistaken, Fred; after breakfast we'll go up-stairs and see for ourselves."
"I shall see now," said her sister Annie, starting up the steps, followed by Fred and the other.
There they quickly learned the whole truth. Eight hundred and odd dollars were in the pocketbook, and the intrinsic worth of the silver tea service amounted to fully three times as much, while ten times that sum would not have persuaded the ladies to part with it.
They were thrown into dismay by the loss, which grew upon them as they reflected over it.
"Why didn't you call us?" asked the white-faced Aunt Lizzie.
"Why, what would you have done if I had called you?" asked Fred, in turn.
"We would have talked with them and shown them what a wicked thing they were doing, and reminded them how unlawful and wrong it is to pick a lock and steal things."
"Gracious alive! if I had undertaken to call you that first man would have shot me, and it was lucky he didn't see me when I swung out the back window; but they left something behind them which I'd rather have than all your silver," said Fred.
"What's that?"
He drew out the pocket-knife and showed it, looking so wistfully that they did not even take it from his hand, but told the gleeful lad to keep it for himself.
"You may be sure I will," was his comment as he stowed it away once more; "a boy don't get a chance at a knife like that more than once in a lifetime."
The old ladies, mild and sweet-tempered as they were, became so faint and weak as they fully realized their loss, that they could eat no breakfast at all, and only swallowed a cup of coffee.
Fred was affected in the same manner, but not to so great an extent. However, he was anxious to do all he could for the good ladies, and spending only a few minutes at the table he donned his hat and said he would go for Constable Archie Jackson.
The hired man, Michael Heyland, had arrived, and was at work out-doors, so there was no call for the boy to remain longer.
As Fred hastened down the lane, he was surprised to hear sounds of martial music, but when he caught sight of a gorgeous band and a number of square, box-like wagons with yellow animals painted on the outside, he recalled that this was the day of the circus, and his heart gave a great bound of delight.
"I wish Miss Annie and Lizzie hadn't lost their money and silver," he said, "for maybe I could have persuaded them to go to the circus with me, and I'm sure they would have enjoyed themselves."
Running forward, Fred perched himself on the fence until the last wagon rattled by, when he slipped to the ground and trotted behind it, feeling that delight which comes to all lads in looking upon the place where wild animals are known to be housed.
At every dwelling they passed the inmates hastened out, and the musicians increased the volume of their music until the air seemed to throb and pulsate with the stirring strains.
When the town of Tottenville was reached, the whole place was topsy-turvy. The men and wagons, with the tents and poles, had been on the ground several hours,hard at work, and crowds had been watching them from the moment of their arrival.
As the rest of the vehicles gathered in a circle, which was to be enclosed by the canvas, the interest was of such an intense character that literally nothing else was seen or thought of by the countrymen and villagers.
There was no one who gaped with more open-mouthed wonder than Fred Sheldon, who forgot for the time the real business which had brought him to Tottenville. As usual, he had his trousers rolled high above his knees, and with his hands deep in his pockets, walked about with his straw hat flapping in the slight breeze, staring at everything relating to the menagerie and circus, and tasting beforehand the delights that awaited him in the afternoon, when he would be permitted to gaze until tired, if such a thing were possible.
"That's the cage that has the great African lion," said Fred to Jimmy Emery and Joe Hunt, who stood beside him; "just look at that picture where he's got a man in his jaws, running off with him, and not caring a cent for the hunters firing at him."
"Them's Tottenhots," said Joe Hunt, who was glad of a chance of airing his knowledge of natural history; "they live in the upper part of Africa, on the Hang Ho river, close to London."
"My gracious," said Fred, with a laugh; "you've got Europe, Asia and Africa all mixed up, and the people are the Hottentots; there isn't anybody in the world with such a name as Tottenhots."
"Yes, there is, too; ain't we folks that live in Tottenville Tottenhots, smarty?"
"Let's ask that big boy there about them; he belongs to the show."
The young man to whom they alluded stood a short distance off, with a long whip in his hand, watching the operations of those who were erecting the canvas. He was quite red in the face, had a bushy head of hair almost of the same hue, and was anything but attractive in appearance.
His trousers were tucked in his boot-tops; he wore a blue shirt, sombrero-like hat, and was smoking a strong briar-wood pipe, occasionally indulging in some remark in which there was a shocking amount of profanity.
The boys started toward him, and had nearly reached him when Jimmy Emery said in an excited undertone:
"Why, don't you see who he is? He's Bud Heyland."
"So he is. His father told me last spring he had gone off to join a circus, but I forgot all about it."
Bud Heyland was the son of Michael Heyland, the man who did the work for the sisters Perkinpine, and before he left was known as the bully of the neighborhood.
He was a year or two older than the oldest in school, and he played the tyrant among the other youngsters, whose life sometimes became a burden to them when he was near.
He generally punished two or three of the lads each day after school for some imaginary offense. If they told the teacher, he would scold and threaten Bud, who would tell some outlandish falsehood, and then whip the boys again for telling tales.
If they appealed to Mr. McCurtis, the same programme was gone through as before; and as the original victims continued to be worsted, they finally gave it up as a losing business and bore their sorrows uncomplainingly.
Fred Sheldon tried several times to get up a confederation against the bully, with a view of bringing him to justice, but the others were too timid, and nothing came from it.
Bud was especially ugly in his actions toward Fred, who had no father to take the matter in hand, while Mr. Heyland himself simply smoked his pipe and grunted out that he couldn't do anything with Bud and had given him up long ago.
Finally Mr. McCurtis lost all patience, and summoning his energies he flogged the young scamp most thoroughly and then bundled him out of the door, forbidding him to come to school any more.
This suited Bud, who hurled several stones through the window, and then went home, stayed several days and finally went off with a circus, with one of whose drivers he had formed an acquaintance.
The boys were a little backward when they recognized Bud, but concluded he would be glad to see them, especially as they all intended to visit the menagerie during the afternoon.
"Halloo, Bud!" called out Fred, with a grin, as he and his two friends approached; "how are you?"
The boy, who was sixteen years old, turned about and looked at them for a minute, and then asked:
"Is that you, younkers? What'er you doin' here?"
"Oh, looking around a little. We're all coming this afternoon."
"You are, eh? Do you expect to crawl under the tent?"
"No, we're going to pay our way in; Jim and Joe didn't know whether they could come or not, but it's all fixed now."
"I watch outside with this cart-whip for boys that try to crawl under, and it's fun when I bring the lash down on 'em. Do you see?"
As he spoke, Bud gave a flourish with the whip, whirling the lash about his head and causing it to snap like a firecracker.
"I'll show you how it works," he called out, with a grin, and without a word of warning he whirled it about the legs and bodies of the boys, who jumped with pain and started to run.
He followed them just as the teacher did before, delivering blows rapidly, every one of which fairly burned and blistered where it struck. Bud laughed and enjoyed it, because he was inflicting suffering, and he would have caused serious injury had not one of the men shouted to him to stop.
Bud obeyed, catching the end of the lash in the hand which held the whipstock, and slouching back to his position, said:
"They wanted me to give 'em free tickets, and 'cause I wouldn't they told me they were going to crawl under the tent; so I thought I would let 'em have a little taste beforehand."
"You mustn't be quite so ready," said the man; "some time you will get into trouble."
"It wan't be the first time," said Bud, looking with a grin at the poor boys, all three of whom were crying with pain; "and I reckon I can get out ag'in, as I've done often enough."
Fred Sheldon, after edging away from the other lads and his friends, all of whom were pitying him, recalled that he had come into the village of Tottenville to see the constable, Archie Jackson, and to tell him about the robbery that had been committed at the residence of the Misses Perkinpine the preceding evening.
Archie, a short, bustling, somewhat pompous man, who turned in his toes when he walked, was found among the crowd that were admiring the circus and menagerie, and was soon made acquainted with the alarming occurrence.
"Just what might have been expected," he said, severely, when he had heard the particulars; "it was some of them circus people, you can make up your mind to that. There's always an ugly crowd going along with 'em, and sometimes a little ahead. It's been some of 'em, I'm sure; very well, very well, I'll go right out and investigate."
He told Fred it was necessary he should go along with him, and the boy did so, being informed that he would be permitted to attend the show in the afternoon.
The fussy constable made the investigation, assisted by the sisters, who had become much calmer, and by Fred, who, it will be understood, was an important witness.
The officer went through and through the house, examining the floor and chairs and windows and furniture for marks that might help him in ferreting out the guilty parties. He looked very wise, and, when he was done, said he had his own theory, and he was moreconvinced than ever that the two burglars were attachés of Bandman's menagerie and circus.
"Purely as a matter of business," said he, "I'll attend the performances this afternoon and evening; I don't believe in circuses, but an officer of the law must sometimes go where his inclination doesn't lead him. Wouldn't you ladies like to attend the show?"
The sisters were quite shocked at the invitation, and said that nothing could induce them to go to such an exhibition, when they never attended one in all their lives.
"In the meantime," added the bustling officer, "I suggest that you offer a reward for the recovery of the goods."
"The suggestion is a good one," said Aunt Annie, "for I do not believe we shall ever get back the silverware unless we make it an inducement for everybody to hunt for it."
After some further words it was agreed that the constable should have a hundred posters printed, offering a reward for the recovery of the stolen property, nothing being said about the capture and conviction of the thieves.
Nor would the conscientious ladies consent to make any offer that could be accepted by the thieves themselves, by which they could claim protection against prosecution.
They would rather bear their irreparable loss than consent to compound crime.
"I know Mr. Carter, a very skillful detective in NewYork," said Archie Jackson, as he prepared to go, "and I will send for him. He's the sharpest man I ever saw, and if the property can be found, he's the one to do it."
The confidence of the officer gave the ladies much hope, and they resumed their duties in their household, as they had done so many times for years past.
As the afternoon approached, the crowds began streaming into Tottenville, and the sight was a stirring one, with the band of music inside, the shouts of the peddlers on the outside, and the general confusion and expectancy on the part of all.
The doors were open early, for, as is always the case, the multitude were ahead of time, and were clamoring for admission.
As may be supposed, the boys were among the earliest, and the little fellows who had suffered at the hands of the cruel Bud Heyland forgot all their miseries in the delight of the entertainment.
On this special occasion Fred had rolled down his trousers and wore a pair of shoes, although most of his playmates preferred no covering at all for their brown, expanding feet.
The "performance," as the circus portion was called, did not begin until two o'clock, so that more than an hour was at the disposal of the visitors in which to inspect the animals.
These were found to be much less awe-inspiring than they were pictured on the flaming posters and on the sides of their cages. The hippopotamus, which was represented as crushing a large boat, containing severalmen, in his jaws, was taken for a small, queer-looking pig, as it was partly seen in the tank, while the grizzly bear, the "Monarch of the Western Wilds," who had slain any number of men before capture, did not look any more formidable than a common dog.
The chief interest of Fred and two or three of his young friends centered around the cage containing the Numidian lion. He was of pretty fair size, looked very fierce, and strode majestically back and forth in his narrow quarters, now and then giving vent to a cavernous growl, which, although not very pleasant to hear, was not so appalling by any means as some travelers declare it to be.
Most of the boys soon went to the cage of monkeys, whose funny antics kept them in a continual roar; but Fred and Joe Hunt, who were about the same age, seemed never to tire of watching the king of beasts.
"Come, move on there; you've been gaping long enough, and it's time other folks had a chance."
It was Bud Heyland, who had yielded his position on the outside for a few minutes to one of the men, and had come in to look around. He raised his whip in a threatening manner, but did not let it descend.
"I'm not in anybody's way," replied the indignant Fred, "and I'll stand here as long as I want to."
"You will, eh? I'll show you!"
This time the bully drew back his whip with the intention of striking, but before he could do so Archie Jackson, standing near, called out:
"You touch him if you dare!"
Bud turned toward the constable, who stood at his elbow, with flashing eyes, and demanded:
"What's the matter with you?"
"That boy isn't doing any harm, and if you touch him I'll take you by the collar and lock you up where you'll stay a while after this miserable show has gone."
Bud knew the officer and held him in more fear than any one else in the community, but he growled:
"This boy crawled under the tent, and he's no business in here."
"That's a falsehood, for I saw him buy his ticket. Come now, young man, Iknow something about last night's nefarious proceedings."
It would be hard to describe the significance with which these words were spoken, but it may be said that no one could have made them more impressive than did the fiery constable, who said them over a second time, and then, shaking his head very knowingly, walked away.
It may have been that Bud Heyland was such a bad boy that his conscience accused him at all times, but Fred Sheldon was certain he saw the red face grow more crimson under the words of the hot-tempered constable.
"Can it be Bud knows anything about last night?" Fred asked himself, attentively watching the movements of Bud, who affected to be interested in something going on a rod or two distant.
He walked rapidly thither, but was gone only a short while when he came back scowling at Fred, who looked at him in an inquiring way.
"What are you staring at me so for?" asked Bud, half raising his hand as if he wanted to strike, but was afraid to do so.
Fred now did something which bordered on insolence, though the party of the other part deserved no consideration therefor. The little fellow looked steadily in the red, inflamed face, and with that peculiar grin that means so much in a boy, said in a low, confidential voice:
"Bud, how about last night?"
Young Sheldon had no warrant to assume that Bud Heyland knew anything of the robbery, and he was only following up the hint given by Archie Jackson himself.
This may have been the reason that Fred fancied he could detect a resemblance—very slight though it was—between the voice of Bud Heyland and that of the tramp who sat at the table in the old brick house, and who, beyond question, had a false beard on.
The young man with the whip in his hand simply looked back at the handsome countenance before him, and without any appearance of emotion, asked in turn:
"What are you talking about?"
Fred continued to look and smile, until suddenly Bud lost all self-command and whirled his whip over his head.
As he did so, the lash flew through the bars of the cage and struck the Numidian lion a sharp, stinging blow on the nose.
He gave a growl of anger, and half-rearing on hishind feet, made a furious clawing and clutching with both paws. The end of the lash seemed to have hit him in the eye, for he was furious for a minute.
Bud Heyland knew what the sounds behind him meant, and instead of striking the young lad whom he detested so much, he turned about in the hope of soothing the enraged lion.
He spoke kindly to the beast, and failing to produce any effect, was about to call one of the men to bring some meat, but at that instant every one near at hand was startled by a crashing, grinding sound, and the cage was seen to sway as if on the point of turning over.
Then, before any one could comprehend fully what had occurred, a huge form was seen to bound through the air in front of the cage, landing directly among the terrified group, who stood spell-bound, scarcely realizing their fearful peril.
"The lion is loose! the lion is loose!" was the next cry that rang through the enclosure.