“Glad nobody’s hurt, least-wise, none of you folks. I’ll go out and have a look around.” There was a business-like gun in his hand and his chin was set firmly.
“I’m coming with you,” Mr. Langwell called from the top of the stairs as he hurried to join the sheriff.
“I’m coming too, Dad.”
“Stay with your mother, please,” he answered, so Roberta obeyed.
“There isn’t a thing you can do out there, Honey,” Mrs. Langwell assured her. “And you might get in the way.”
So the girl had to be content to remain inside, while sounds of people running, sharp questions, brief answers, and the noise of automobiles stopping while the occupants demanded to know what was the difficulty came to them from outside. Half an hour later Mr. Langwell came back with the sheriff and their nearest neighbor, and although they were greatly excited, they had discovered nothing more than some footprints of the robbers, and the place where a large car had been parked by the side of the road, obviously waiting to assist the thieves in their enterprise, or get them away from the scene of their mischief.
“That’s a good lock you have on the building,” the sheriff announced. “Kept them from opening the door right away.”
“Mighty good thing your daughter happened to look out of her window before she turned in to bed,” remarked the neighbor.
“Yes, indeed it is.”
“I call the best part that you had a pop-gun to pepper them with. I heard one cry out, and from my window I saw that the fellow hiding nearest the barn grabbed toward his face.”