The excitement, which had died down after the fire was gotten under control, now sprang into new life. Everybody was jumping about, the women and girls uttering little shrieks of alarm, the men growling threats against the daring scamp who would burn a house down with as little compunction as he might light a pipe.
"Come on!" shouted Frank, as he darted off.
His two chums were close at his heels, and a couple of men tagging along in the rear. Neither Frank nor any one of his comrades had the slightest idea as to what they would do when they came up with the desperate man. He might be armed for all they knew, and could mock their efforts to capture him.
"We're gaining on him!" gasped Ralph, when half the field had been passed over.
"Hand over fist!" echoed Lanky.
"He's handicapped by those big bundles of clothes he's carrying, that's what's the matter," Frank shot over his shoulder.
"Will we get him?" asked Ralph.
"Sure. Even if he pushes into the woods we can overhaul him. It's up to us, fellows, to get back all that plunder for the farmer. Keep right along!" encouraged Frank, who was setting them a hot pace.
Indeed, no one would ever think, to see the rapid way in which the three comrades sped along, that they had already skated more than twenty miles that day; and besides this, had worked like troopers putting out the fire which the artful thief had doubtless started.
Now and then the fugitive looked over his shoulder as he ran. He was undoubtedly trying to gauge their progress, and compare it with his own. The result must have been rather discouraging to him. At any rate he presently allowed one of the two bundles he carried to drop to the ground.