The boys rushed downstairs to find an automobile waiting. Beside Mr. Wharton, the owner, they recognized the constable.
“Tumble in,” said Mr. Wharton, smiling, and a half dozen boys swarmed into the automobile.
“You see,” explained Shiner, “we passed three tramps about two miles from here, and I saw that two of them were the ones we saw the day we were swimming. I told Mr. Wharton and we put on speed, picked up the constable and hurried up for you, so that you could go along and identify them.”
Mr. Wharton had started the car the moment the boys were inside, and it was skimming along like a bird. It went so fast that the boys had to hold on to their caps, and although they were all chattering with might and main, the wind made it almost impossible for one to hear what the others were saying.
In a very few minutes they saw three figures on the lonely country road ahead. The one in the center had a limp that was familiar.
The tramps heard the coming car, and at first stood aside to let it pass. But as it slowed up on approaching them, they took alarm, climbed over a fence and started across the fields toward a piece of woodland a little way off.
Their pursuers leaped from the car and gave chase. The lithe limbs of the boys gave them an advantage over their heavier companions, and they were soon on the heels of the tramps, who turned snarling and faced them.
“Keep off or I’ll club the life out of you,” shouted one, whom they recognized as the man with the scar.
“No you won’t,” cried Bobby, defiantly.
“We want the things you stole from us,” sang out Fred.