The other continued his remonstrances, but was forced along by the officer, who still held him by the shoulder, and refused to make any further reply to his remarks.
In five minutes he had him within the strong walls of the station-house, and safely locked up in a cell.
“That’s one of them bagged,” he said.
Daylight was faintly showing in the east, and the occasional rumble of wagons had been for some time audible in the streets, when a light team stopped at the rear of Brown and Felger’s.
For ten minutes the driver, and the two persons inside this establishment, were busy in removing rolls of goods to the wagon.
Then the door was closed, a key turned in it, and the driver and one of the burglars entered the wagon, which drove away.
The bearer of the key moved hastily from the locality, in the opposite direction.
But their retreat was not effected so easily as they had anticipated. The pedestrian met the fate of his earlier companion, by feeling a hand upon his shoulder, hearing a voice at his ear.
The men in the wagon tried to ride over the officer, who suddenly clutched their horse by the head. But he held on vigorously, and two more strong policemen sprung into the wagon, making them prisoners.
Inside of half an hour the three men were locked up in the same station-house which had been graced by their comrade for several hours. The wagon, with its spoils, was drawn into the yard of the police head-quarters.