“Yes,” demanded the grocer in a high, quavering falsetto, “why didn’t ye nab ’em? What are you doing here? What do we hire ye for?”
“I tell ye they shot at me,” replied Jonas. “They banged right at me, and I couldn’t see a soul. They had the advantage. Think of my size. S’pose I was going to stand still and let them pepper me full of bullets?”
“Fellow citizens,” said the lawyer, who of them all seemed to retain the most presence of mind, “if there are robbers in the bank they may escape while we stand here wasting time in talk. Lead the way, Sylvester; we’re with you.”
Thus encouraged, the night-watch took the lead, accompanied by the excited crowd. A few of the more timid ones either held back or hastily returned to their homes to procure weapons. Some expressed doubts, declaring their belief that Oakdale’s nocturnal guardian must be mistaken.
But a single glance through the front window of the bank convinced Lawyer Francis that something was wrong there beyond dispute. With a word he called attention to the fact that the light which burned by night in front of the vault had been extinguished.
“Show us that winder,” commanded Hyde, pushing Sylvester forward.
“Yes, show us the winder,” tremulously urged Stickney, falling back until nearly all of the crowd were ahead of him.
“Git ready for a bloody encounter,” warned the night-watch. “They’re desperate men, and they’ll fight to the last gasp.”
“We’ll find there are no robbers in the bank now,” said the lawyer; “and all this uproar has sent them scampering long before this.”
As they were hurrying round to the rear of the building a voice roared at them through the darkness.