"Can't tell till we try!"
"But how——"
"There are only two small windows in the house,—funny, isn't it, when air is so necessary in case of sickness,—he can't get out of them. So all we have to do is guard the door."
"But how shall we get him to the—police?"
"Sheriff? I hadn't thought of that part. We couldn't tie him up and march him to jail,—we aren't strong enough, just us girls. We'll have to make sure he is there, lock him in, and then while one of us guards the door, the other must go for help."
Gloriana shuddered. She hoped it would not fall to her lot to guard the door, and yet she could not bear to think of Tabitha's staying there alone with only a flimsy structure between her and a desperate character.
"I—we—had we better try it alone?" she asked timidly. "Wouldn't it be wiser to tell the assayer and get him to help?"
"The more people there are connected with his capture, the smaller our share of the reward will be. We can do it all right."
Tabitha's daring swept away her objections. "That's so," she answered. "Well, we better not wait any longer then, or perhaps he will get away yet."
"I'm ready," Tabitha replied promptly, and with quaking hearts but determined steps the two set out, armed with a stout stick and the rusty old pistol which Gloriana had used the night the boys had played burglar.