"Yes, I saw Mrs. Fairchild draw the money from the bank. She put it in a black bag and started straight for her home." The reply came in a voice that was also hoarse, almost guttural.
"It would certainly be a dandy haul."
"Just what I've said all along."
"But the risk. If that hired man sleeps in the house——"
"I don't think he does. The widow don't like men folks around. I heard that from one of the neighbors, the day I went to price some chickens."
"Well, we might go over to her place and take a look around," came after a pause, and then followed some conversation that Dave could not catch. A few minutes later the two men walked away, and the youth heard no more of them.
Dave was amazed and with good reason. If he understood the situation at all the two men intended to rob the house of a widow who lived about half a mile up the road. They had seen her draw some money from a bank somewhere and intended to take the amount from her.
"They must be the very chaps who robbed Mr. Lapham and also the place in Oakdale," he thought. "I must get out and do what I can to outwit them!"
In feverish haste he climbed the chain again and pushed on the plank of the roof. By hard work he managed to loosen one end, but the other end seemed to be tight and refused to budge.
"If I only had something to pry it off with," he mused, but could find nothing. Then, almost in desperation, he dropped to the ground again and began to pound on the door, at the same time shouting at the top of his lungs.