John looked doubtful.
At this moment a rap was heard at the back door.
“There comes Clark!” said he.
Potts opened the door. Clark entered. His face was flushed, and his eyes bloodshot.
“See here,” said he, mysteriously, as he entered the room.
“What?” asked the others, anxiously.
“There’s two chaps at the inn. One is the Italian—”
“Langhetti!”
“Ay,” said Clark, gloomily; “and the other is his mate—that fellow that helped him to carry off the gal. They’ve done it again this time, and my opinion is that these fellows are at the bottom of all our troubles. You know whose son he is.”
Potts and John exchanged glances.