“We didn’t intend to rob you,” said Jerry. “And while you are acting this way that man, who may be a desperate criminal, is escaping. If you are bound to take us before our officers, at least look after the crooked-nosed chap.”
“Oh, I can lay hands on him when I want him,” said the farmer, and then Ned, Bob and Jerry realized how futile it was to argue with him.
“It’s too bad!” murmured Bob, as they drove back to the camp in the wagon, Pug declining to accompany them, saying he would walk.
“Yes, it is tough,” agreed Jerry. “Just when we were about to get hold of Crooked Nose! If he’s the one you think he is, Bob, he’ll take the alarm and skip.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of. Hang Pug, anyhow! What’s his game?”
“Maybe he made the accusation against us to cover up some trick of his own,” suggested Ned, in a low voice so the now unfriendly farmer would not hear. “Pug had some object in coming away from camp, and it wasn’t to follow us, for he didn’t know what we were going to do.”
“I don’t believe he did,” assented Jerry. “But he must have followed us, and when he saw us go into the barn he made up his mean mind to make trouble for us.”
This was the only explanation the boys could think of, and they had to let it go at that.
The three chums had to stand no little chaffing and gibing when they were brought back to camp in practical custody of the farmer. It was not uncommon for the lads, on hikes and practice marches, to raid orchards and hen roosts, and punishment was always meted out to the offenders, while payment for the damage done was taken from their pay, and their comrades jumped to this as the explanation of the present predicament of Ned, Bob and Jerry.
“But this accusation is unjust!” said Ned, when they were taken before their captain. “It’s all a mistake.”