“Have you seen him?” cried one.
“Seen who?” asked Strout.
“He's tall—black clothes—had on a straw hat—”
“Who in thunder is he?” cried Strout.
“He's a lunatic—just escaped from the asylum. We tracked him to this town—”
“He's gone to the hotel,” said Bob Wood. “You can nab him easy there. I'll show you the way.”
The men started on the run, led by Bob Wood, and followed by all who had been enjoying the hospitality afforded by the soap-boxes, nail-kegs, and the red-hot stove.
“What beats me,” said Hiram, “is how he knew all about the Ricker family.”
“Simple enough,” said Strout with a sneer, “That ass Abner told him the whole business. He never could keep his mouth shet. That's the reason I wouldn't give him a job in this store.”
Mr. Strout extinguished some of the lights, locked the door, and resumed his seat by the stove.