"Why, yes."
"Then let him do his duty. I've put a warrant into his hands, and Squire Price and I expect him to execute it."
"Suppose he's killed?" suggested Mrs. Spriggins.
Her husband looked nervous at the possibility hinted at, but Tarbox was inexorable.
"Then you can be proud of his dyin' while doin' his duty. Come, constable, I've no time to waste. Come along!"
"You're real mean!" ejaculated Mrs. Spriggins, tearfully.
Tarbox deigned no answer, but strode out of the yard, followed by the reluctant constable.
Few words were said, but when they were half way to the circus grounds a bright idea struck Spriggins.
"I say, Mr. Tarbox," he said, eagerly, "can't we compromise this thing?"