“There he goes!”
Barker and Grogan came after Bob, but the youth would have escaped by outdistancing them had not just then something unexpected occurred.
Bob was making for the roadway when suddenly he ran plump into a man who was making tracks toward the red house.
The force of the meeting was such that both went sprawling in the mud, and before Bob could arise Barker was on top of him, and Grogan followed.
“Here, what does this mean?” gasped the fellow Bob had knocked down.
“Good for you, Horning!” laughed Barker. “We wanted him stopped, and you have done it.”
“Hang me if it isn’t that young fellow who tried to down me,” cried Horning, as he sprang up and began to wipe the mud from his face.
“March back to the house,” ordered Barker to Bob. “No more escapes are in order, understand.”
With something of a sinking heart Bob turned about and, with Barker on one side of him and Grogan on the other, walked back and entered the sitting-room, Horning following.
“It’s beastly weather,” muttered the latter. “I would never have started out if I had known it was going to pour down like this.”