“Ain’t got him!” repeated Dan ungrammatically.
“No; he broke away from Joe Brooks last night just this side of the jail. Joe fired at him and he says he hit him, but I don’t believe Joe could hit a barn door, let alone a man runnin’ like all git out! Anyway, the feller never stopped runnin’; I reckon he’s runnin’ yit!”
“Well,” said Dan, as they went out on to the porch with Barry at heel, “of course he was a thief and all that, and he had one of the toughest-looking faces I ever saw, but, just the same, I’m kind of glad he got away. He looked just about half-starved, Bob. And I’m not stuck on helping to put anyone in prison. Maybe he’ll behave himself after this.”
“Well, from what I’ve seen of the tableware,” said Bob dryly, “I guess the chap’s better off without it. I don’t believe he could have got thirty cents for the lot!”
Presently they went to writing letters, and even Tom, with the burglar episode to tell of, managed to fill two pages. Afterwards they were requested to bring Barry out to the office, and, doing so, found the proprietor and a couple of dozen others assembled waiting for them. Barry was placed on the top of the office desk and the proprietor made him a speech of thanks, frequently interrupted by laughter and applause, and when he had finished presented to the hero a new collar and leash. Dan, speaking for Barry, responded somewhat embarrassedly and the new collar was placed around the dog’s neck. Then everyone went into dinner in high good humor.
“What did you do with the old leash, Dan?” asked Tom.
“It’s upstairs. Why? It’s busted, you know.”
“I know it is. Give it to me?”
“Sure. What for?”
“Oh, nothing much,” answered Tom.