"Not a bit, sir; but we've got two of the men in there."
He pushed his way down stairs, and was met by several policemen, who had made their way through the crowd outside. As the principal excitement seemed in the parlor, he turned that way. The eyes of all there were fixed upon two quiet-looking men, who stood with a policeman's hand on a shoulder of each.
"Philip Sanford! What does all this mean?"
"I must ask you that," was the answer. "I came to your house on a friendly visit, and to introduce my nephew, who is desirous of becoming a law student in your office"—motioning toward the younger man—"and I find myself under arrest."
The policemen dropped their hands and looked toward Mr. Primrose. Mr. Primrose looked at them.
"Why are you here, men?" he asked.
"The little chap wanted us pretty badly," said one of them, turning to Tom with a laugh.
"I—thought they were the criminals, papa—had come to hurt you, and I couldn't speak to you, and I locked you up. I didn't know what to do—and you said the burglars were such nice-looking men." A laugh arose at this.
"Go on," said his father; "I don't understand yet."
"The burglars were gone when I got to Homer; they sat behind me on the cars, and talked about being revenged on you, papa; and one of them had that revolver." Tom's voice broke, and he seized his father's hand.