“I want to take the pistol,” I added.

“All right.  There is the box of extra cartridges.  Do you want the lantern?”

“Yes; I may want to use it before I return.  I’ll blow it out now.”

Our conversation had lasted but a few seconds, and an instant after I was on my way, the lantern on my left arm and the pistol in my right hand.

“Take good care of Kate,” I called back as I passed out.

“I will,” replied Dick.  “Don’t stay away too long, if you don’t find the fellow.”

I passed around to the other side of the garden, where an open gateway led to the pear orchard.  I felt pretty certain that John Stumpy had pursued this course, and I entered the orchard on a run.

The thief, I reckoned, was not over five minutes ahead of me.  To be sure, he could easily hide, but it was not likely that he would care to remain in the neighborhood, unless it was really necessary for him to see Mr. Aaron Woodward.

When I got well into the orchard, where it was darker than in the garden, I listened intently, hoping that I might hear some sound that would guide me.

But all was silent.  Occasionally a night bird fluttered through the trees and a frog gave a dismal croak, but otherwise not a sound broke the stillness.

I continued on my way toward the road, and reaching the fence, paused again.

Had the thief jumped over?  If so, which way had he gone, up, down, or into the woods beyond?  It was a perplexing question.  Perhaps if I had been in a story book I might have found some clew to direct me.  But I was not that kind of a hero.  I was only an everyday boy, and consequently no clew presented itself.

I stood by the fence for several minutes, my eyes and ears on the alert to catch anything worthy of notice.  I judged it was near midnight, and hardly had I thought of the matter before the distant town bells tolled the hour of twelve.

As the echo of the last stroke died away, two figures came slowly up the road.  As they drew nearer, I recognized Moran and Pultzer, the two Models members who had assisted at my capture.

I was astonished at their appearance.  What on earth could they be doing out at this time of night?

As they drew near I thought for many reasons that it would not be advisable to show myself, and I stepped behind a tree.

“I don’t care what you say,” said Pultzer, “Dunc was half scared to death when we came away.”

“I guess he didn’t think what a serious matter it was when he asked us to go into it,” returned Moran.  “It’s the worst affair I ever got into.”

“Ditto myself,” responded Pultzer.

“And if we get out without being caught, you’ll never find me in another such,” continued the other earnestly.

“I wonder what Dunc’s father will say when he hears of it?”

“And all the rest of the Darbyville people?  Of course they’ve got to lay it to some one.”