As Squire Dobb spoke, the would-be burglar turned swiftly.
“Collared!” he muttered laconically.
Then he tried to escape by a rear door, but Nathan Dobb covered him with the pistol.
“Stop, Griswold!”
“Confound the luck! The game is up!”
“It is. Stop where you are.”
“Don’t be hard on me, squire.”
“So you were going to rob me, eh?”
“Let me go this time, squire,” went on the man pleadingly.
“What for? So you can rob somebody else?”