In simple words the boys told how they had been held up and despoiled by the tramps.
Mr. Stone could hardly restrain his rage.
“It’s the most atrocious and cowardly thing I’ve heard of for a long time,” he ejaculated. “To think of those scoundrels robbing you of everything you had, even your railroad tickets! They ought to be drawn and quartered.”
The boys were rather hazy as to what drawing and quartering involved, but they heartily agreed with him.
“I’ll have to get busy at once!” Mr. Stone exclaimed, jumping to his feet. “There isn’t a minute to lose. Those rascals will know that the officers will be after them as soon as you tell your story and they’ll be planning to clear out. They may have started already, for all we know. I’ll get the constable and some other men after them and I’ll go along to do all I can to put the thieves in jail.
“But first,” he went on, “I’ll have to fix up you boys. The train will be along in a few minutes. I’ll get your tickets for you and give you plenty of money besides to get on with.”
“I’ve already telegraphed for money and I’m expecting it every minute,” put in Bobby.
“That’s all right, but we can’t take chances on that. It may not come in time for you to catch the train. I’ll look after the telegram if it comes after you leave, and see that it’s sent on to you.”
“Of course our folks will make this all right with you,” said Fred who, like Bobby himself, hated to be under any money obligation.
“That’s understood,” assented Mr. Stone. “I’ll send them a bill.”