“You great detective!” he railed. “Badges and clubs, and horse-pistols, too, I suppose?”
“Well, don’t you expect to catch the robbers?”
“I hope to find out something about them to tell the marshal, yes,” replied Bob. “Come on, fellows.”
Bob led the way to the dismal abode where the old miser lived. He halted under a tree near the fence of the place.
“Now, then,” he said to Frank and Sammy, “stay here till I skirmish around a bit.”
“All right,” replied his companions, in a breath.
Bob went slowly and cautiously all around the fenced-in lot. He made sure that the big vicious dog old Dolby owned was chained up and asleep. The house looked dark and dreary, as usual, except in the living-room, where the miser passed most of his time.
They Saw the Miser Go Out to the Old, Rickety Barn