"You ought to know this boy, Mr. Baxter, though he's so black now his own mother might hardly recognize him. It's Lanky Wallace," observed Frank, smiling at the persistence of his hungry chum.
"Why, to be sure. I have known his father these many years, and he has been my lawyer several times. Lanky, you will be welcome a dozen times to join us. There's plenty for all, and Ma has the name of being a pretty good cook. But listen, what is it your other young friend is shouting. Let us hurry out to see."
They rushed through to the outside air. Here Ralph was calling at the top of his voice, and pointing across the open field.
"Look yonder, fellows! What d'ye think of that? While the house burned that escaped jailbird has been here stealing all he could lay hands on," and Frank was astonished to see a man clad in a striped suit running, with bundles in his arms.
CHAPTER XV
THE OLD FARMER'S SECRET
"An escaped convict!" shouted one of the hired men.
"He's been looting the upper rooms of the house, and has carried off a lot of clothes he wants to put on to hide his striped suit!" cried the old farmer.
"And he set the house afire to cover his work!" echoed Frank, the thought coming into his mind like an inspiration.
"Chase after him, fellows!" shouted Ralph.