The story of the happenings at Raymond’s Hotel was soon told. Old Larchmond and his wife listened with interest, the old man shaking his head repeatedly, and the old lady putting in a “do tell” at every opportunity.
“And now we want to know what is the best to do,” said Frank after all the facts had been related.
“Yeou can’t do nuthin’,” replied Mrs. Larchmond, promptly.
“We can’t?” cried Bob.
“No, yeou can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Well, it’s this way,” said the old man, by way of explanation. “Raymond is the wust feller in the whole deestrict. The law can’t tech him, nohow. I tried to sue him onct, but the constable couldn’t serve the papers, nohow.”
“Did you have Dilmer?”
“Yes, I had Dilmer, an’ I had Vincent, too; but it wuz no ust—them dogs kept ’em at a safe distance.”
“But the hounds are now dead.”