“Stab Nichols!” Pearly’s face lit up with sudden interest. “I hadn’t heard about it. When did this happen?”
“Yesterday afternoon,” Dick replied. “I thought perhaps Rand had mentioned it to you in his letter.”
“No,” answered Pearly, “he had too many other things to tell me. Most of his message was taken up with instructions which we are to follow as soon as we leave this post.”
Sandy’s dispirited face clouded still more as the moments passed. Unable longer to withstand the gnawing demands of his stomach, he stepped forward and demanded:
“What about something to eat? Just because that blamed outlaw is sitting in there, is no reason why we should all go hungry. Constable Pearly, isn’t there something you can suggest?”
“Certainly,” smiled the constable, “I can easily arrange that. But first we’d better find a more suitable hiding place than this.”
“What about the loft in the stable?” proposed Dick.
“As good a place as any,” Pearly decided, glancing across at Sandy’s wan and disconsolate features.
“I’ll hustle back to the trading room and purchase a few things for you to eat. While I’m doing that, the three of you can go up to the loft.”
The boys entered the barn and climbed the rickety ladder to the floor above. Crossing over to a large pile of hay, they flung themselves down to await the constable’s return. It was not long before he reappeared.