“You may be right.”
“Shall we go after the rascals?” asked Fitt. “All three ought to be in the lock-up.”
“I don’t know which way they went,” returned Frank. “Do you, Bob?”
“I thought they cut around the back. Is there a road in that direction?”
“Yes, Martin’s lane comes through, and meets the road alongside the railroad track,” answered the hotel-keeper.
“Then perhaps they took that road,” suggested Bob. “If you say the word, Frank, we’ll go after them.”
“Couldn’t find ’em in the dark,” said Fitt, who was too scared to venture on such a quest.
“I’ve got pretty good eyes,” laughed the youth.
A hurried consultation was held, and Frank and Bob started off alone, Bob carrying a revolver Fitt had loaned him, Frank being supplied with a weapon of his own.
On the two went until Bob came to a sudden halt, and plucked Frank by the sleeve.