The quick footsteps of the thief were becoming fainter and fainter in the distance. Then they ceased abruptly.
“Who was it, Fred?” asked Jud.
“Don’t know.” Fred was angry with himself and spoke sharply. “Didn’t get much of a look at him and wouldn’t know him again if I saw him. Well, he won’t come back; that’s certain.”
“Judson, didn’t I call you?”
“Yes’m. Don, where are you? Come into the house for a minute.”
“No; I’d best be going,” replied Don quickly.
But before he went he whispered to Jud: “Do you know who the fellow was? It was Tom Bullard!”
“Tom Bullard! The fellow who kicked your dog?”
“Yes; I’m sure of it; I saw his face just before the candle went out.”
Jud whistled softly.