“He’s crossed the tracks,” said Bob. “If you hadn’t called me back, Ned, I’d had him.”
“We’ll get him yet,” declared Ned. “Come on.”
He took his cousin’s hand. Bob seized Dorothy’s other hand and she ran between them, down across the railroad tracks and up the hill. They were going toward Rouse’s farm. They saw the lanky, white-haired youth climbing the heights above them.
Suddenly smoke and fire burst out at a point in the upper pasture far from Simeon Rouse’s house. It was a fodder stack afire, and Dorothy and the two boys saw several figures running about it.
The path over the upland which Poke Daggett followed led him right past the fired stack of corn fodder. Ned and Dorothy both saw this.
“Leave me behind, boys—do,” she gasped. “You can overtake him and I can’t.”
“Isn’t that Tavia?” demanded Bob Niles. “It is she, I’m sure.”
“And the boys,” cried Dorothy. “Tell them to stop him, Ned!”
Ned White raised his voice in a great whoop. He waved his hands and pointed to the running Daggett. The latter was almost up to the stack of burning fodder.
It was Tavia’s quick mind that understood Ned’s yells and gestures. She sprang straight into the path of the white-haired youth. He dodged her, but came to his knees. Joe and Johnny, well up in football tactics, tackled low and brought the fellow down again before he had fairly regained his feet.