“Good by, Uncle Arad!” the captain’s son cried mockingly. “I’ll see you when I’ve returned from the West Indies.”
He was out in a moment, and the door slammed behind him.
The deputy sheriff sprang forward to follow, but Caleb managed to get his wooden leg in the way, and the officer measured his length on the office floor, while Uncle Arad, fairly wild with rage, danced up and down, and shrieked for the police.
CHAPTER XXVII
WHEREIN BRANDON TARR CONCEALS HIMSELF
The doughty deputy sheriff was on his feet in an instant, and with a wrathy glance at Caleb, dashed out of the office after the fleeing Brandon. If he did not make the arrest he would fail to get his money, and he did not propose to lose that.
But Uncle Arad could not get to the door without passing Caleb and he hardly dared do that. Just then the big seaman looked in no mood to be tampered with. The farmer, however, did sputter out something about having the law on everybody in general.
“Bring on all the law you want to, you old scarecrow,” responded Caleb, vigorously mopping his face. “I reckon we kin take care of it. What ye got there, Adoniram?”
Mr. Pepper had picked up the letter which had fallen from old Arad’s pocket, and was looking at the superscription in a puzzled manner.
Arad caught sight of the epistle as quickly as did Caleb.
“That’s mine! give it here!” he cried, making a snatch at the paper.