“You’d better go in a wagon,” interposed the hired man. “I’ll hitch up for you.”
“That’s a good idea,” declared Mr. Wolff. “He might escape if we walked with him.”
“Ef ye take one of our hosses or wagons ye’ll have t’ pay fer it,” warned Mrs. Savage.
“We will,” replied Mr. Walker. “Ye kin send yer bill t’ th’ county. They allow th’ use of a rig in bringin’ prisoners from a distance.”
Hanging his head in shame at the disgrace that had come to him, just at the time when he thought he was serving the ends of justice, poor Dan got into the wagon, between his captors, the hot tears coming into his eyes.
“I’ll come to you, or send Mr. Savage as soon as he gets back,” promised the hired man, but Dan felt that he would receive little consolation from his mean employer, though the farmer could not refuse to testify in his favor.
“And I’ll tell Dr. Maxwell,” added Silas Martin, as he rode back to the house that had been robbed.
There was great excitement in the village when the two constables drove in, with Dan seated between them. The news of the robbery had spread like wildfire, and, to the eager inquiries that were met with on every side, the two officials told of Dan’s arrest.
“There he is! There’s the robber!” he could hear persons in the crowd exclaim. Most of the villagers knew him, and curious as it may seem, there were few who did not believe him guilty, though they had always up to this time, been certain he was an honest boy. Very often, when a man or a boy is in misfortune, many take pleasure in adding to it by harsh words.
The crowd increased as word of Dan’s arrest spread. At first he hung his head, and pulled his cap down over his eyes, but, though he was much ashamed of his plight, he knew he was innocent, and he determined to hold up his head and look every one in the face.