"They came down the main street, yes."
Mrs. Nelson sighed deeply. She did not like the idea of any one prowling about her home after dark.
"I am going to take a look around again," said Ralph, noticing her uneasiness. "Perhaps it was a sneak-thief who has stolen the ax or the saw from the woodshed."
Ralph walked outside. It was now growing lighter in the east, for it was after four o'clock in the morning. He looked about the woodshed and the cottage, but everything appeared to be all right. Certainly nothing had been stolen.
The boy was about to return to the kitchen, when he heard several men coming down the road from the village. He halted in the dooryard to see who they were.
"There is somebody now!" one of the men exclaimed, and Ralph recognized Uriah Dick's voice.
"It is Ralph Nelson himself," replied Bart Haycock, the blacksmith, who was one of the party.
"Hallo, there, Nelson!" called out the third man. It was Jack Rodman, the district constable.
"Hallo, Rodman!" returned the boy, as he ran down to the gate. "Are you after the post office robbers?"
"I guess we are that," put in Uriah Dicks. "An' we ain't far from one of 'em!"