CHAPTER XI.—A CRIMINAL COMPACT.
There had been several robberies in Hopsville lately, so the squire was certain the burglar had now come to his house.
Instantly he turned out the light in the office. Then opening the door to the hall he listened attentively.
He was right; some one was moving cautiously about the kitchen.
Moving back to his desk the squire secured his pistol and also a club.
When he came out into the hall on tiptoe he heard the would-be burglar moving around the dining-room.
Presently the fellow struck a light, which he set on the table.
Then he began an examination of the silverware on the sideboard.
By the light the squire got a good look at the would-be burglar. He was astonished beyond measure.
“Hank Griswold!” he muttered, half-aloud.
The man whose name he mentioned had formerly been a tavern-keeper in Hopsville.
But he had been sent to jail for robbing and beating a drunken man. His discharge had taken place but two weeks before.
As Squire Dobb spoke, the would-be burglar turned swiftly.
“Collared!” he muttered laconically.
Then he tried to escape by a rear door, but Nathan Dobb covered him with the pistol.
“Stop, Griswold!”
“Confound the luck! The game is up!”
“It is. Stop where you are.”
“Don’t be hard on me, squire.”
“So you were going to rob me, eh?”
“Let me go this time, squire,” went on the man pleadingly.
“What for? So you can rob somebody else?”
“I ain’t got a cent to my name, squire.”
“I can’t help that.”
Suddenly a thought flashed over Squire Dobb’s mind.
“Griswold, step into my office.”
“Don’t lock me up, squire.”
“I won’t—if you will do as I wish you to.”
“I’ll do anything you say, only don’t arrest me again.”
“Step into the office, and see to it that you don’t wake up the whole household.”
Hank Griswold complied. The squire followed him, still, however, keeping his pistol ready for use.
But when the office was reached, and the door shut, Nathan Dobb’s manner changed. He took Griswold’s hand.
“Griswold, you are just the man I want to see.”
“I—I—don’t understand,” was the confused reply.
“I’ll explain. Sit down and take it easy. You love to smoke? Have a cigar,” and a box was shoved toward him.
“See here, Nathan Dobb, what’s your game now?”
“I want to throw some work in your hands, work that will pay well.”
“What kind of work?” asked Griswold suspiciously. He was half-inclined to believe Nathan Dobb was out of his mind.
“You just said you would do anything for me if I didn’t have you arrested.”
“So I will.” “Supposing I put a job in your way that will pay you an even hundred dollars——”
“You’re foolin’ me, squire.”
“I mean it, Griswold, a hundred dollars. Would you do the work and say nothing?”
“Yes.”
“It’s a—a—job that isn’t strictly—ah—all right, you know.”
“I don’t care what it is,” returned Griswold recklessly. “I’ll do anything you say. You can trust me.”
“Will you?” cried Nathan Dobb eagerly. He hesitated. “I want to get a boy out of my way.”
“Who?”
“Leo Dunbar, who used to live with Dan Hawkins.”
“I know him. Didn’t his father once have my tavern shut up as a disorderly house?”
“Well, as I said, I want to get that boy out of my way.”
“Where is he now?”
“He is traveling as an acrobat with that circus which performed here a week or so ago.”
“And you want me to—to—?” Griswold hesitated.
“I want him removed from my path. I never want to see him around here again.” “And you’ll give me a hundred for the job?”
“I will.”
“It’s not enough. Make it two hundred.”
“Well, I will.”
“In cash?”
“Yes.”
“When can I get the money?”
“You can get it right here as soon as—well, I’m sure Dunbar won’t bother me any more.”
“You’re a cool one, Dobb. But I said I’d go you, and I will. But, say?”
“Well?”
“You must let me have fifty dollars on account. I’ll have to hang around the circus for awhile and lay my plans. It’s no fool of a job to do as you wish.”
“Here are thirty dollars. And one word more, Hank. Never mention my name in this, and if I were you, don’t ever let Leo Dunbar see you.”
“I’ll remember,” replied Griswold.
Ten minutes later he left Nathan Dobb’s house as secretly as he had entered it.