Old Mr. King who had been awakened by the previous noise, and had rung his burglar alarm that connected with Thomas's and Jencks's rooms in the stable, now cried out from his doorway. "Make quick work, Thomas," and Percy saw the gleam of a pistol held high in Thomas's hand.
Up with a rush came bare feet over the back stairs; a flutter of something white, and Joel sprang in between them. "It's Percy—it's Percy!" he screamed, "don't you see, Thomas?"
"I'm Percy—don't shoot!" the taller burglar kept saying without intermission, while the flaring of candles and frightened voices, told of the aroused household.
"Make quick work, Jencks!" shouted Mr. King from his doorway, to add to the general din.
Thomas, whose blood was up, determined once for all to put an end to the profession of burglary as far as his master's house was concerned, now drew nearer, steadying his pistol and trying to sight the nearest fellow. This proved to be Van, now struggling to his feet.
Joel took one wild step forward. "Thomas—don't shoot! It's Van!"
"Make quick work, Thomas!" called Mr. King.
There was but a moment in which to decide. It was either Van or he; and in an instant Joel had stepped in front of the pistol.