“Where’s an officer?” Bob asked, looking about.
“Here,” came a shout, and the next moment a policeman stepped up, looked at the downed captive and then at Bob.
“Take this man to the police station,” the youth directed.
“You’re certain you’ve got the goods on him?”
“Yes. I’ll come along with you.”
Tim Donnahan slowly responded to the officer’s command to “rise an’ get goin’,” and they started to a police telephone, where a call for a patrol wagon was to be made.
Meanwhile Joe, who was left behind in the car when Bob made his escape, had resolved to free himself if it were at all possible. He saw that it would be impossible to break away as his friend had done, for the crowd was all the more determined to bring him to justice as a “hold-up man,” which they didn’t doubt that he was. So the only thing left was to do his best to make them believe what he told them.
“I tell you it’s a mistake,” he pleaded. “This first fellow that got away is the guilty person. We caught him after he had set fire to my father’s garage. We were taking him to the police station when he pulled his gag about being held up. You noticed he lost no time in getting away, didn’t you? Would a man who wasn’t guilty have done such a thing?”
His tones were so much in earnest that many of the people were inclined to believe him.
“He’s telling the truth, all right,” declared one man, nodding.