When the rascals saw Farmer Loftus and his sturdy sons they wanted to run more than ever. But the presence of the shotgun and the clubs detained them and they submitted without a murmur.
"I'd a good mind to fill ye all full o' shot," said the farmer, indignantly. "Yes, those are my chickens, every one on 'em. I'm going to have the hull crowd locked up."
"I'll help you," said Harry.
"So will I," added Joe.
"Let us all go along," came from Fred. "The game is over."
So it was decided, and surrounded by the boys and the farmer and his sons, the tramps were marched off to the village of Compton, a mile and a half away. Here they were locked up, and later on sent to prison for their misdeeds.
"I'm glad ye collared them tramps," said the farmer, after the excitement was over. "They have been a-botherin' me for a long time." And then he invited the whole crowd to his house, to partake of doughnuts, pie, and milk, and he also gave each some apples on parting.
"Not such a bad game of hare and hounds after all," said Harry, on the way home.
"You're right," answered Link. "But it didn't wind up exactly as we expected."