“I guess we’d better remain in hiding,” trembled Sandy. “Do you think we’ll be safe here, constable?”
A ghost of a smile played across the policeman’s weather-tanned features.
“If you mean ‘safe from detection’—I doubt it. Sooner or later some one is certain to enter this loft and will find you here. Murky may lead his horse into the stable at any moment.”
“Even if he does, he may not come to the loft,” reasoned Dick. “There is plenty of hay piled up in the stable below.”
“But what about your ponies? Wouldn’t he recognize them?”
Dick and Sandy gasped in unison. Toma bounded to his feet with a guttural exclamation of dismay.
“Nichols be sure know ponies right away,” he declared excitedly.
“What do you think we’d better do?” Sandy quavered.
“Get your horses out of the stable as quickly as possible,” Pearly replied. “This young man here”—indicating Toma—“can give me a hand. Come on! We’ll have to hurry. You two,” motioning Dick and Sandy to remain seated, “will remain here. I’ll let you know just as soon as the coast is clear. I may possibly find another hiding place.”
“They’ll take them out through the back door,” said Dick.