The constable thought that Dick was joking, and was about to make some humorous reply, when he noticed that Dick was in dead earnest.
“You really serious?” he asked.
“Never more so in my life,” answered Dick, and in a few brief sentences imparted his information to the constable.
“Now what’s the next step?” asked Dick, as he finished telling his story.
“Well, things are breaking lucky for us. I telephoned the sheriff after you brought in that other chap, and he said he’s starting right for here in his tin flivver. That was just before noon, and allowing him plenty of time along the road, he ought to be here any minute now. He’s only about forty-five miles from here. Let’s get back to the lockup and wait for him.”
This they did, and had barely gotten inside when they heard a motor engine come to a coughing stop outside and in walked the sheriff with one of his deputies. He recognized Dick instantly, for he had been at the head of the party the night that the smuggler band had been surrounded and captured.
The constable asked Dick to relate the occurrences of the morning beginning with the capture of the tramp and the subsequent developments that warned them of the attempt that was to be made that night.
The sheriff took in the whole talk without interruption, and then quickly made his plans.
“If any other person than this fellow had told me such a wild story, I’d be laughing yet; but I’ve seen a little of the work of this boy and his two companions, and so I’m taking a chance that he hasn’t been dreaming. You’re sure these are the same fellows you had a run-in with down in Cumberland county, are you?” he asked, for Dick had told them how they had first known of the tramps.
“Sure I’m sure,” said Dick indignantly. “Do you think I’m spinning tales just to hear myself talk?”