“Every cent of it. Boys, will you help me capture them?”
“Certainly we will. Hi! stop there!”
“Come on,” whispered Frank to Bob. “We can’t stand up against such a crowd. The best we can do is to run away and summon the authorities.”
“The constable don’t amount to a hill of beans,” returned the young photographer. “Yet if you say go, we’ll skip. I was principally after Casco.”
“Come ahead this way.”
“Lead ahead.”
The young man turned to a lane which ran to the south of the barn, and Bob came close behind. It was then that one of the men yelled for them to stop, but he was not heeded.
“Where is Casco?” asked Frank, as they scurried along.
“Got away across the brook. I wonder if any of those fellows will follow us.”
“It’s not likely, after they see the way you treated the hounds,” laughed Frank. “By Jove! Bob, you are a crack shot.”