“Let us rush out, surround the house, and capture the rascals,” came from Bart.
“Hurrah!” shouted Teddy, enthusiastically. “Sure an’ we’ll have a regular Donnybrook Fair, such as me father often tells about.”
“No! no!” answered old Runnell. “Some of you would be sure to get shot or hurt in some way.”
“But we came for the express purpose of catching those tramps,” cried Joe. “I’m not afraid to tackle them.”
“We are seven to three,” said Fred. “Perhaps they’ll surrender, when they see how many there are of us.”
“Not if they have done something to Ike Slosson, lad. They’ll fight hard to get away. I have another plan. Five of us can watch the house while the other two tramp to the nearest village and get some officers. Then we can pounce on ’em while they are asleep.”
This was considered excellent advice, and it was speedily decided that Harry and Bart were to go to the village of Bralham, two miles away. The others were to surround the house and keep a close watch so that none of those inside could escape.
The sun had now set and it was quite dark by the time Harry and Bart struck the road leading to Bralham, a place consisting of half a dozen houses, a store and a grist mill. What help they could muster at such a place was still a question.
“Perhaps nobody will care to take hold with us,” observed Harry, as they trudged along. “Some of these country constables are mighty afraid of their hides, when it comes to catching a criminal.”
There was no moon, but countless stars shone in the dear sky, making the path fairly light. All was very quiet, until directly over their heads an owl let out a mournful hoot.