The officer told him.
“Can’t get the news home quick enough, eh?” he laughed good-naturedly. “Well, I don’t wonder. And when you see your folks, tell ’em I said they’re lucky to have such a pair of kids.”
It was rather an excited, jumbled message that reached the Rushton home that night, but it made Mr. Rushton’s eyes kindle with pride, while his wife’s were wet with happy tears. Old Martha strutted about, glorying in the vindication of her “lambs,” and Uncle Aaron so far forgot himself as to clap his brother on the shoulder and say:
“Fine boys, Mansfield, fine boys!”
Then, as though he had said too much, he added:
“I knew that Rally Hall would be the making of them.”
After the telegram had been sent, the Rushton boys started back for Rally Hall. They had had the most strenuous kind of a day, but all their weariness was forgotten in the glorious ending that had been brought about.
“It’s a long lane that has no turning,” remarked Fred, as they rode along through the darkness. “Those fellows got away from us twice, but they couldn’t do it again.”
“It was the third time and out for them, all right,” jubilated Teddy. “Say, Fred, can’t you see the folks at home when they get that telegram? Perhaps they’re reading it this blessed minute.”
“I guess we’ve squared ourselves with Uncle Aaron,” chuckled his brother.