“Grab that hand,” panted Nelson. “He’s got a revolver.”
Dan obeyed and wrested the implement away. It proved, however, to be not a revolver, but a heavy, leather-covered billy about six inches long. After that the man underneath gave up the struggle and lay quiet until Mr. Brooks, who turned out to be the town constable, yanked him to his feet.
By that time most of the occupants of the hotel, including Tom and Bob, had assembled in various stages of undress, and the hubbub was considerable. Tom was wildly excited and stammered question after question. But no one paid any heed to him. A bag well filled with plated silverware, gleaned from the dining room, into which apartment the burglar had made his way by forcing a window, was found back of the counter. The officer took the names of about twenty persons, most of whom had seen nothing of the affair, and the unfortunate man was haled away to the jail. After that, for more than an hour, all the male occupants of the house sat around in the office and discussed and rediscussed the affair. Naturally, Barry and Nelson and Dan came in for much praise, Barry especially. Everyone had to pet him, and a less sensible dog might have had his head turned. But Barry took his honors modestly; in fact, he seemed rather bored by the admiration bestowed upon him. Along toward four o’clock the excitement had died down sufficiently to permit of the occupants returning to bed, and this they did, Tom bewailing loudly his ill luck in having arrived on the scene too late.
“If I had bu-bu-bu-been there,” began Tommy.
“If you had been there,” interrupted Bob unkindly, “the thief would have got away while you were choking over it.”
[CHAPTER VIII]
IN WHICH POVERTY CLAIMS THE FOUR
The next day was Thursday. Nelson declared it wasn’t; that it was only Wednesday; but the blue, red, and yellow calendar advertising Somebody’s Smokeless Powder, which hung in the hotel office, contradicted him. But whatever day it was it was anything but a pleasant one. Last evening’s thundershower had resolved itself into a steady, persistent drizzle. The boys woke late, in consequence of the early morning diversions, and when they looked at the sky and the muddy road they sighed. It was Tom who dared voice what all were thinking.