“We’ll be on our guard, don’t fear,” answered Pepper, and then he and Andy saw the girls to the carriage, and saw Michael the coachman drive off with them.
While the cadets were awaiting the arrival of Landerson the butcher and Peters and Robinson, two farmers who had lately lost chickens by stealing, the young major gave some of them directions where to go and establish a new camp. This was a spot known to but a few, and he felt certain that Reff Ritter would not be able to follow them to it.
“Take the horse and wagon along over the stones,” he said, “and then drive them down Baker’s brook. Water leaves a mighty poor trail.”
“All right, we’ll do the best we can,” said Bob Grenwood, who was placed at the head of the cadets to superintend the removal.
About half-past two the butcher and the two farmers arrived, in company with a small, fat man who gravely announced himself as one of the deputy sheriffs of the county.
“Great Cæsar! Has he come to arrest us!” whispered Bart Conners, as the deputy sheriff eyed the boys in a suspicious manner.
“No, he has come to arrest the chicken thieves—if he can find them,” answered Jack.
It looked as if a storm might be brewing, so no time was lost in starting in the direction of the tramps’ camp. Andy and Stuffer, knowing the trail, led the way, and the men from Cedarville and Mr. Ford and six of the cadets followed. The deputy sheriff and the two farmers carried shotguns, and the butcher boastfully exhibited a pistol of the old “hoss” variety, and nearly two feet long.
“We may as well arm ourselves,” suggested Rossmore Ford. “There is no telling what may happen, if those rascals show fight.” And he cut himself a stout stick, and the cadets did likewise.
The deputy sheriff being fat was also short of wind, so the party had to move slowly. Once they came to a halt, Andy and Stuffer being a little doubtful of the trail.