“That’s what he did,” agreed his companion officer. “I wonder who he was? I wish we could have caught him. He was a burglar.”
“That’s right,” chimed in Hen. “Now we’ll have to go back to town, and find out who was robbed.”
Back to the police station went the two constables, panting somewhat after their fruitless run. They reached the lockup about the same time Deacon Blackford did. There were no prisoners in the jail then, so the services of a watchman were temporarily dispensed with.
Hen and Tim saw a figure walking along the street near the little building that contained a few cells. Their previous experience had made them suspicious of any one abroad at this hour.
“There’s another one of ’em!” exclaimed Hen.
“Another who?” asked his fellow officer.
“Burglar. We’ll get him. Come on!”
Determined that this second midnight prowler should not get away the two constables made a rush for him.
“We’ve got you!” cried Hen.
“Surrender!” yelled Tim, drawing his revolver.