A group began to cluster around them, most of the men rubbing their smarting eyes. Already did they realize the uselessness of trying to put up a fight against the flames that were spreading resistlessly amid the hay.
"Well, I declare if it ain't the two hands that worked for me, and then tried to rob my house, setting it on fire as they ran away!" declared Mr. Brady, as he got a good look at the prostrate men.
"Do you mean to say these are the fugitives I have been chasing, the desperate yeggmen named Shorty McCabe and Lanky Jim Smith?" cried the police head.
"That's just who they are, sir," replied Elmer.
"But where did you find them?" demanded the other, hardly willing to believe the plain evidence of his eyes and ears.
"As soon as I knew they had set fire to the hay I guessed it was only meant to draw attention to that quarter while they slipped away. I've seen that game played more than once out West, sir," Elmer remarked, modestly.
"And it was a fact, was it; they did try to steal off?" questioned the other.
"We found a place where there was a board off the barn, and Elmer, he expected that was the way they'd come out," said Ty, breaking in; for he just wanted this consequential personage to understand that he did not know so very much after all, in spite of his splendid uniform and that wonderful strut.
"Which same they did, all right," spoke up Landy, "and then, you see, we just sat on 'em. Reckon the long feller must 'a' thought a mountain had caved in when I dropped on his back."
"Will you take charge of the prisoners, Mr. Benchley?" asked Elmer.