“Hold on here,” he exclaimed. “I want you.”
“Aw, let go,” said Sebastian savagely, for he was no weakling. There was nerve and determination in him, as well as a keen sense of his awkward predicament.
“Let go, I tell you,” he reiterated, and giving a jerk, he almost upset his captor.
“Come here now,” said the detective, pulling him viciously in an effort to establish his authority.
Sebastian came, but it was with a blow which staggered his adversary.
There was more struggling, and then a passing railroad hand came to the detective’s assistance. Together they hurried him toward the depôt, and there discovering the local officer, turned him over. It was with a torn coat, scarred hands and face, and a black eye that Sebastian was locked up for the night.
When the children came home they could not say what had happened to their brother, but as nine o’clock struck, and then ten and eleven, and Sebastian did not return, Mrs. Gerhardt was beside herself. He had stayed out many a night as late as twelve and one, but his mother had a foreboding of something terrible tonight. When half-past one arrived, and no Sebastian, she began to cry.
“Some one ought to go up and tell your father,” she said. “He may be in jail.”
Jennie volunteered, but George, who was soundly sleeping, was awakened to go along with her.
“What!” said Gerhardt, astonished to see his two children.