“It was Mrs. Sudds who telephoned. To the women-folk, Josiah is bigger than the president. That tin star he wears is what gets them.”
Mr. Armitage went up the steps of the sheriff’s house, chuckling. He rang the bell, and almost immediately the door opened. There was a light in the office; connected with the jail, and there was usually one or two deputies on watch in the office all night.
“Why, Polk you’re just the man for us,” said the hearty voice of Mr. Armitage. Then, in a low tone he explained what was afoot. The deputy, whose turn it was to be on duty at the Riverdale jail, spoke to his partner inside, got his hat, and came back with Armitage to the car.
“Evening, Mr. Briggs. Hello Dan!” he said. “I’ve been dead sore ever since those fellows escaped us on Saturday night. If there’s a chance of catching ’em, I want to be with you.”
“Hop in,” said Mr. Briggs. “If they are coming directly to town, we ought to meet them on the pike in a very few moments.”
Dan had already started the motor car again and they ran swiftly out of town. Passing the Darringford Machine Shops they could see the gaunt skeleton of the new office building being erected on the site of the old one that had been burned in the summer. As they shot into the straight pike, the road seemed deserted.
They came soon to the first cross-road—a lane which cut over the country and joined the Port Luther highway. Polk shouted to Dan to stop.
“What is it now?” demanded Mr. Briggs, quickly.
“Let me get out and see if a car has recently turned into this road from the direction of the Falls. It’s sandy here,” said the deputy.
Before he could put his suggestion into words Henri, the Frenchman, was out in the roadway in his stead. He carried Dan’s lantern with him, and turned the wick up so he might see.