“Well, I’m coming down,” Larry continued. “If you think I’m a burglar you can take me to a police station.”
Indeed Larry would have asked nothing better just then than to be taken before some friendly bluecoats.
“All right,” the man continued. “But mind, don’t try any tricks on me! I’m strong, and I’ll tackle you if you start to fight.”
“I won’t fight,” spoke Larry mildly.
Then he continued on down the ladder and finally reached the ground. He confronted the man, who thought he had effected an important capture. That individual was a mild appearing, short, stout old gentleman with white hair and whiskers. He looked at Larry as well as he could in the darkness.
“Stand still until I strike a match,” he said. “I want to have a good look at you.”
“You don’t look like a very bad burglar,” he said after a close examination. “But you never can tell nowadays about burglars. Some of the best looking are the worst thieves. You come along with me.”
“We’d better hurry,” said Larry, “or the two men might come back and catch me again.”
“What two men?”
Thereupon the boy told his story briefly.