"Didn't you have some trouble with a couple of men yesterday?"
"Why, yes; but——"
Dick halted suddenly, looking puzzled. Could it be possible, after all, that this was a "delicate" attention from Ab. Dexter?
For Dexter had no need to be afraid of walking the streets of Gridley. His wife had refused to procure a warrant for him on the charge of attempted abduction of Myra. She was unwilling that her child should bear the disgrace of having a father in prison.
Three other men had drawn close and halted. To them the first man explained what had happened.
"Come on!" cried one of the newcomers, hastening into the building. "One of you stay out on the sidewalk; another go to the back of the building. We'll soon find out whether there's any one in the building."
Dick joined, as the person most interested, in the swift, thorough search that was made.
No other human being than the searchers, however, was to be found in the building.
"I don't believe any one threw it at me," said Dick thoughtfully, after all hands had returned to the street. "The hod must have been left standing near the edge of the building—perhaps against the top of a ladder. Then the breeze up there may have jarred it out of place. At any rate, I'm not hurt, and no harm is done. But I wish to thank all of you gentlemen for taking the trouble to make the search."
"Humph!" muttered one of the men, after Dick had hurried away. "The idea of a hod being left standing, and then being blown over into the street doesn't satisfy me!"