“That’s a lie,” was Will’s whispered comment. “I’ll bet a cow you’ll find a hornet in your box.”
Their tones fell again, and nothing further came to the listeners’ ears. The conversation soon after broke up, and there were signs of departure.
“Thursday night, then,” said one.
“No. Friday night. They might be on guard on Thursday.”
The boys slid down the shed, gained the fence, and in a moment had dropped to the ground.
“Now, Joe, we know our men, and don’t need to follow them. Let’s slide,” said Will.
They lost no time in putting distance between them and that dangerous locality.
“Tell you what it is, Will,” said Joe, leaning doggedly against a lamp-post, “there’s something up. What is it?”
“Dead burglary, Joe. These fellers have been going through a friend of mine. They’ve laid out a plan to rob him ag’in next Friday. But I’m on hand to sp’ile their little game.”
“Who’s been robbed?”