“Did you see him?” quickly inquired the deacon.
“Yes, but we couldn’t see his face—couldn’t tell who he was,” explained Tim.
“I can tell you who he was!” announced the deacon, importantly.
“You?” gasped both constables.
“Yes! He was Joe Strong!”
“Joe Strong? What! Not your——”
“My foster-son,” broke in the deacon. “I regret to say that he has run away with money and valuable papers belonging to me. I want him arrested. I’ll swear out a warrant in the morning. But if you look for him now you may find him. Arrest him on sight!”
“No use looking now,” said Hen, despondently.
“Why not?”
“Because he took the midnight freight. We saw him jump into an empty car as the train was pulling out of the station. I knew he must have been up to some mischief, or he wouldn’t have run the way he did.”