“Come on back and help him,” urged Bart, who was always anxious to aid persons in distress, even if they were enemies.
The others hesitated. It was rather a risk, Fenn thought. But the problem was solved for them. The man who had been knocked down by the engine arose to his feet. Supporting himself on the shoulder of his companion he limped off up the street, and away from the boys.
“I guess he isn’t badly hurt,” remarked Ned. “He’ll not chase us any more. That engine came along just in time.”
“Except I guess it’s too late to help put out the fire,” said Frank. “There can’t be much left of the elevator.”
“But what did we run for?” asked Ned. “Who were those chaps, Fenn?”
Fenn explained what he had heard, and expressed the belief that the men had some business enmity against Mr. Hayward.
“They seemed delighted that the elevator, containing his grain, burned down; or at least the one man did,” he said. “Then, when they saw I was listening, though I didn’t really intend to, they acted as though they wanted to get hold of me, and see why I was so interested. I thought they might be pickpockets, but now I don’t believe they were.”
“We must tell Captain Wiggs about it,” suggested Frank.
“I don’t believe I will,” answered Fenn. “I don’t want him to laugh at me, and I think he surely will if I suggest that the men chased us. He’ll probably think we took two harmless citizens for burglars. No, I think the best plan will be to wait and see what turns up.”