Swerving to the right, he pushed for the barn.
“Hi, there!” cried Patsy. “He’s a thief! Head him off! Stop him!”
Instead of trying to head off the fleeing robber, however, the farmer and his family retreated into the house at a double quick.
“Hurry, Hiram!” cried the woman, frantically. “They’re tramps, and we’ll all be killed, I know we will!”
“Don’t you fret, Mirandy!” whooped the farmer. “I’ll take care of you.”
Then the door was slammed shut, effectually debarring the entrance of the hired man.
“Le’me in!” bellowed the hired man, banging at the door with his clinched fists. “Gosh all hemlocks, d’ye want me tew git killed?”
“You don’t amount to nothin’, Willyum,” called the farmer from behind the door; “they won’t kill you. Set Tige on ’em!”
The hired man whirled and loped toward the barn.
Seeing Patsy making in that direction, William sidetracked into a corn crib.