"What do you mean, Chief?" asked the puzzled gentleman.
"He's bound to beat me out of my job. Not satisfied with recovering all the loot that was taken from that Fordham store, he's just gone and captured the two desperate ruffians responsible for the robbery!" declared the chief; while Frank held up his hand, and shook his head in protest.
"Why, my boy, is it possible?" exclaimed Mr. Allen, with deep feeling, as he grasped Frank's hand.
"Hurrah for Frank Allen, the pride of Columbia!" yelled a boy; and a series of shouts broke loose that caused every person within a block to run to their front doors to see what sort of procession was coming down the street.
"Please come along; I'll tell you all about it as we go home, dad, but it isn't quite as bad as that. I had help, and considerable of it too, or things might have been different from what they turned out. Say, you fellows, give a cheer for George Hastings, Molly Manners, Sandy Douglas and the rest of the bunch who helped get these two chaps. They deserve it more than I do!"
Leaving the crowd talking excitedly at this new development, Frank walked away with his father. Mr. Allen was burning with eagerness to hear what it was all about, and hence Frank had to tell the story, from the moment he found his wheel slipping at that spot on the road where the water from the spring overlapped it.
And when he had finished by giving most of the praise to the valiant sons of Columbia High who had appeared just in the nick of time, the gentleman squeezed his hand again and again, while there was a suspicious moisture in his eyes as he said:
"I consider myself a most fortunate man to have a boy so capable of looking out for himself. And Frank, your mother will share my pride when she hears about this thing. But make as light of it as you can, son, because it will frighten her to know that you have been in serious danger." And Frank readily agreed, for he had been himself considering that very thing.
CHAPTER XX
THE SUNKEN ROWBOAT