“I’ll pitch it over with this fork,” said Carl, and took up the implement he had mentioned.
He had proceeded but a short distance into the hay when one of Leo’s valises came to light. His own followed, and soon all their baggage was recovered.
“Well?” called the tavern-keeper from below.
“We have it,” replied the young gymnast.
“Good enough. This fellow is good for a term in the State prison.”
At this Darrow began to whine and beg. But Mr. Cook was obdurate and told him to shut up.
As soon as the two performers came below again the party drove off for the squire’s office, situated over the general store and post office. Here a formal complaint was lodged by Mr. Cook, and Jack Darrow was locked up to await the sitting of the grand jury at the county seat.
“He’ll be indicted—I’ll see to it myself,” said the tavern-keeper, as he and our heroes drove back to Charlotting.
Leo and Carl were anxious to get to the place where they were to perform that night, and as it was some distance out Mr. Cook drove them directly to the spot—a fine country seat, at which a party of over forty were stopping.
A round of applause greeted their appearance in the drawing-room some time later. The drawing-room opened into a conservatory, and the latter was used by the pair for a stage.