They found Frank splitting wood in the yard. To him they made known their errand, requesting him to call Philip out.
“He isn’t here,” answered Frank.
“Isn’t here? I don’t believe it!” said the squire hastily.
“Sorry you doubt my word, Squire Pope, but it’s just as I say.”
“Where is he, then?” demanded the squire suspiciously.
“He has left town.”
“Left town?” repeated the squire and Joe Tucker, in dismay. “Where is he gone!”
“He’s probably ten miles away by this time,” answered Frank, enjoying their perplexity. “I guess you’d better wait till he comes back.”
Joe and the squire conferred together, but no satisfactory result was arrived at, except it wouldn’t pay to pursue Philip, for two reasons—one, because they were quite uncertain in what direction he had gone; another, because, even if overtaken, they would have no authority to apprehend him, since he had been guilty of no crime.
Finally a bright idea came to the squire.