“Ugh!” exclaimed Van at him, while Grandpapa held up a warning finger.
“Yes, it was just about as big,” said Polly. “Well, there were some men who were pretty rich lived there in fine smart houses, about six—no, I guess a dozen of them, and the robbers had waited a good while to see if they would come down their long and lonely road. But they never had; for you see, whenever they had to get to the next place, they went clear away the other side of the mountain, and so kept off from the dreadful robbers and their cave. Well, so one night, all the robbers sat and made up a plan, and”—
“How many?” began Joel abruptly. But one look at old Mr. King stopped him.
“Well, there were just about a hundred robbers,” said Polly, seeing it was expected of her to have a good number.
“Oh, my!” exclaimed Percy.
“And they all decided that as the splendid rich men, who lived in the big houses, wouldn’t come to them, they would go after them.”
“Oh, dear!” said little Dick.
“Yes, and so the head robber,—oh, he was too perfectly splendid to look at,”—cried Polly, waxing enthusiastic, as she looked at her absorbed audience, “he was all dressed up in red velvet, and a white plume in his hat that trailed off in the air, and he had a long sword in his belt, and it clanked every step he took, and two or three knives and pistols—oh! and other things stuck in round his waist, so he was perfectly dreadful too. Well, he told twelve of his robbers to go and catch the splendid rich men, and get all their money, and”—
“How did they get it, Polly?” cried Percy.