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tired."

He leaned against the fence while recovering from his unwonted exercise. Naturally he believed the young man who had used him so ill had carried away his weapon beyond possibility of recovery.

"And I paid twenty-five dollars for it in Portland," he bitterly mused. "It looks to me that as a hunter of post office robbers I ain't of much account."

He resumed his walk homeward, going slowly, carefully climbing the obstructions in his path and studying what explanation to make to his friends for the loss of his valuable piece. He might manage it with all except his wife and son. It would not do to tell them he had dropped it somewhere along the road without noticing the accident. A boy might lose his pocketknife (I know of a youngster who lost a wheelbarrow and never found it again), but a double barreled shotgun manifestly could not disappear in that fashion so much out of the ordinary way of things.

"I think I'll have a look at the post office and larn what mischief the villain done there."

He veered in his course and came to the back window, where a light showed that some persons were gathered. He found mother, daughter and the three boys, who gave him warm greeting.

"Was that your gun we heard a little while ago?" asked the woman.

"I reckon it must have been," replied Mr. Buxton, who declined the invitation to enter and remained standing outside the window.

"Did you hit the burglar?" asked Alvin.

"Young man," said Mr. Buxton loftily, "when I fire at anything I _always_ hit it."

"You didn't kill him, Gerald!" exclaimed the horrified mother.

"No; I just winged him so he won't forget it if he lives a thousand years; don't like to kill a scamp even if he is a burglar."

"Where's your gun?" continued Alvin.

The man glanced around as if it were hidden somewhere about his garments.

"Now isn't that a fine go?" he exclaimed disgustedly. "I set it down while I went forward to see how bad that feller was hit, and plumb forgot."

"O dad, here's your gun!"

It was the son Jim who called this greeting as he straddled forward with the heavy piece resting on his shoulder. All stared in amazement, and the father in his confusion was imprudent enough to ask:

"Where did you get it?"

"I seen that feller that took it away from you and made you dance all the way across the field. He throwed it down and went into the woods. When I seen you hopping and dancing and kicking up your heels I nearly died a-larfing. But I didn't forgit the gun, and run along the edge of the woods and picked it up. Gee! it's heavy! But, dad, I didn't know you could dance like that. Say----"

"You young rascal, didn't I tell you to stay home? I'll larn you!"

The parent made a dive at his son, who, with the gun still over his shoulder, scooted across the yard and over the fence, with his irate father in fierce pursuit.


CHAPTER XXI

HOW IT WAS DONE

The attempt to rob the safe in the Beartown post office was accompanied by more than one unique incident. Chief among these was the cowardice exhibited by two of the three members who composed the little band of lawbreakers.

It has been shown that the full-grown man with a big mustache acted as a lookout at the front, which is perhaps the safest post for a criminal in such circumstances, since he has a good chance to get away on the first approach of danger. A second lookout was placed at the rear. After-developments showed that the trio was headed by Kit Woodford, the adult member, who had led a life of crime since boyhood and had served a term in prison. He would have been more successful as a criminal except for his rank cowardice which caused him to be despised and cast out by several gangs with which he sought to connect himself.

The other two burglars were Orestes Noxon and Graff Miller, neither of whom had reached his majority by more than two years. It was Miller who took his station at the rear, where on the first sign of something amiss he sneaked off without giving the signal which would have warned Noxon in time to flee unharmed. In his way, he was as lacking in personal courage as Kit Woodford. The latter held his place until the racket caused by Mike Murphy's tumble downstairs apprised him that things were not going right. He ventured upon a single timid whistle, which no one else heard, and then slunk down the road, hugging the shadows and intent only on saving his own bacon.

How was it that young Noxon was assigned the most perilous task of all, when in reality he was the youngest of the three? It was due to a peculiar skill which neither of the others possessed. He proved more than once that he could take position in front of an ordinary safe--not the most modern kind--and by a wonderfully deft manipulation of the knob which governed the combination tell by the fall of the tumblers just when the index struck the right numerals. He demonstrated this power many times when all others who made the trial failed. He asked simply to be left undisturbed with his ear against the steel door as he turned the knob with infinite delicacy. He was proud of his ability in this respect, and when Kit Woodford gave him the post of peril he accepted it as a compliment and eagerly essayed the task.

Although there is no evidence on the point, it is quite sure that Kit Woodford, whose chief business was to spy out the land, knew that several wealthy citizens of Beartown made a practice of leaving large deposits with Mrs. Friestone overnight or for several nights and days. It is not to be supposed that Woodford would rob so insignificant a post office for the small booty that belonged to the government. Quite likely he was aware of the large sum left with her on the afternoon before.

But Mike Murphy's original style of descending the back stairs brought the schemes of the criminals to naught, and saved the safe from spoliation. I have told how the three criminals scattered to as many different points of the compass. They could not have come together again had not previous provision been made for such emergencies. The leader, having shaken himself clear of the village, turned into the wood and picked his way toward the river. He was to the north, however, while the other lookout, Miller, was to the south, and neither knew how far apart they were.

There seemed little risk in signalling, and after Woodford had gone half way to the river he paused among the shadows and listened. He had been startled by the report of the gun, but everything was now still. Placing his thumb and forefinger between his lips, he emitted a sharp, tremulous whistle, which was instantly answered by a similar call from some point not far off. A few minutes later he and Miller, after a few precautions, came together among the shadows.

"I knew you would be somewhere in the neighborhood," was the young man's explanation, "and I was listening for your signal."

"Well," growled the elder, "Noxon made a mess of it to-night."

"It looks that way."

"Do you know what happened? Did you see anything?"

"I saw him dash out from the rear of that store with someone chasing him with a loaded gun."

"That must have been what we heard a little while ago. Looks as if they got Nox."

"Shouldn't be surprised," remarked the other indifferently.

"He oughter managed things better. How was it you didn't warn him?"

"I did; I whistled twice the instant I saw his danger, and ran the risk of getting it in the neck myself," was the unblushing response of the youth.

"I don't see that there's anything we can do for him. He got himself in a hole through his own foolishness and must pull himself out. My motto when a gang gets into trouble is that every one must look out for himself and the devil take the hindmost."

"I say, Kit," said Miller, lowering his voice as if fearful of being overheard, "do you think they'll get Nox?"

"Haven't a doubt of it."

"I say, do you think there's any danger of his squealing, that is, if he hasn't been killed?"

"Naw," was the disgusted reply. "Nox is game--true blue; you can bet on him till the cows come home."

Which was more than Nox could say about his two pals.

Kit Woodford may have spoken with confidence, but he was not as free from misgivings as he would have it appear. He could not feel sure of their missing companion. If the report which they had heard did not mean that he had been slain, his capture looked certain, and there was no saying what he might do to secure leniency. Kit knew what _he_ would do in a similar situation.

"Well, come on," he growled. "We're in tough luck to-night."

And the two pushed their way among the trees in the direction of the river.

Meantime, matters remained interesting at the home of Widow Friestone. The words of young Jim Buxton told a graphic story which made even Nora laugh and forget for the time the frightful excitement they had passed through. When the merriment had partly subsided, Mike drew one of his remaining two quarters from his pocket and handed it to Nora.

"Will ye do me the kindness to presint that to Jim when he comes to the store in the morning to set the table on the front porch?"

"What's that for?" asked the puzzled girl.

"For the gayety he imparted to this gloomy avening. I don't know as ye need say that to him, for he wouldn't understand what ye meant until after three or four years of hard thought. But he's airned it, and ye'll not forgit."

She laid the coin aside and assured the donor that his wishes should be carried out.

Chester spoke:

"It seems to me we are throwing away time. It is past midnight and here we sit talking, and doing nothing because there seems nothing to do. What do you think, Alvin?"

"You are right. This business doesn't seem to have stirred up the town. I don't suppose anyone knows what has happened except Mr. Buxton and his family, and I don't think he will tell the particulars himself."

"That can be lift to Jim," said Mike, "onless his dad imprisses upon him that it won't be healthy for him to talk too freely wid his mouth regarding the sarcus he obsarved this avening."

"The lookout in front ran off at the first sign of danger, and if there was a second one he ran too. It will be a long time before any member of that party pays Beartown a second visit."

Alvin now made known the fear in his mind--a fear that was shared by Chester. The _Deerfoot_ was lying against the bank in Back River exposed to any injury which these criminals might choose to inflict by way of revenge. He proposed that the mother and daughter, after refastening the window and locking up, should retire to their beds, while the boys returned to the launch to make sure no harm befell it.

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