“We want to pay you for your services, Mr. Jandle,” said Jack, as they turned into the lane. “What do you think it ought to be?”
“That’s all right, Rover. You fellows did me a good turn when you shot those crows. Let us call it square.”
“No, you let me pay you,” returned Jack in a low voice, for he could easily see that Bill Jandle was rather pinched for money. And then he passed over a five-dollar bill which the farmer pocketed with great satisfaction.
Their coming had been noted, and the Rover boys were met on the veranda by their uncle and aunt and also their grandfather, all of whom were in a state of great mental excitement.
“I thought you’d never get here!” exclaimed their Uncle Randolph nervously. “This is an awful happening—truly awful!” and he wiped the perspiration from his brow.
“Just think of bandits holding up your fathers’ offices!” burst out Aunt Martha. “Isn’t it dreadful? I can’t help but think that maybe somebody was shot!”
“I wish I had been down there with a pistol!” quavered Grandfather Rover, his head bobbing from side to side. “I’d just like to get a shot at such rascals!” and he shook his cane as if to knock out some bandit right then and there.
“Have you received any more news?” questioned Randy quickly.
“Nothing since we got that first message,” answered Uncle Randolph. “We’ve been trying to use the ’phone, but wires are out of commission somewhere along the line. We thought we had New York once, but it was only Binghamton.”
“We ought to be able to get into communication by telegraph,” said Jack.