Through the window he could see Hogan dipping his face again and again in the trough. This continued for perhaps half an hour. Then he slowly left the yard, but not without shaking his fist at the house which contained the young hero who had balked him in his unlawful designs. To be brief, for the remainder of the night the house had rest.
Early in the morning the two sisters came downstairs. Andy, who had dressed himself, to be prepared for an emergency, was lying on the sofa, sleeping peacefully.
“Poor boy!” murmured Susan. “What a terrible night he must have passed!”
“And all in our defense, too. I never dreamed that he was so brave.”
“It’s a mercy the burglar didn’t carry him off.”
“It was the money he wanted, sister.”
“But he might have killed Andy.”
“That is true. It seems to me, sister, we ought to pay him handsomely for what he has done.”
“I am quite of your opinion, Sister Sally. How much do you think we ought to give him?”
“I wouldn’t do what he did for fifty dollars.”