Hogan had not given it up as a bad job. Andy’s unexpected resistance only made him the more determined to effect his object. Besides the natural desire to obtain so large a booty, he thirsted for revenge upon Andy.

“The boy’s plucky!” he muttered, as he descended from the roof; “but I’ll be even with him yet.”

He had to descend cautiously, for the shingles were slippery, but he finally reached the lowest point and jumped down.

“If I could only find an ax or a hatchet,” he said to himself, “I would make short work of the window. I don’t believe the boy will dare to shoot.”

He searched for the articles he had named, but in vain.

“What can I take?” he thought, perplexed.

His eyes fell upon a thick club, not unlike a baseball bat, and this seemed to him suitable for his purpose. He took it and commenced reascending to the roof again. There was a fence, which helped him as a stepping-stone, otherwise he would have found it difficult to get a footing upon it. Meanwhile Andy had not been idle.

First of all, he saw that it was unsafe to have the money any longer in his custody. His assailant might be successful in the new attempt he would probably make, and he must not find the bank bills.

Andy did not like to frighten the ladies, but he thought it necessary, under the circumstances. He went to the door of the parlor chamber, which the two sisters occupied, and rapped loudly on the door.

The knock was heard, and it excited dismay. The timid ladies thought it might be the burglar of whom they were so much in fear.

“Who’s there?” asked Miss Susan, in trembling accents, through the keyhole.

“It’s me—Andy. Please open the door—quick!”

“What has happened?” demanded Miss Susan, in agitation.

“I want to hand you the trunk,” answered Andy.

“What for? Is there any burglar in the house?”

“No; but there’s one trying to get into my room.”

“Oh, heavens! what shall we do?” ejaculated both ladies, in chorus.

“Take the tin trunk, and I’ll manage him,” said Andy.

The door was opened a crack and the trunk taken into the trembling hands of the agitated spinster.

“Where is the burglar?” answered Susan.

“Gone to find something to break through the window.”

“Oh, dear, he will murder us all!”

“No, he won’t,” said Andy. “I won’t let him!”

“You’d better hide,” said Susan. “Is he a big man?”

“Pretty large. He looks as if he was just out of jail.”

“He mustn’t hurt you. I’d rather he had the money. Take it and give it to him and ask him to go.”

“Not much!” answered Andy, stoutly. “But I must go. He’ll soon be at the window again. Is there any hot water in the house?”

“Yes; we keep a fire all night in the kitchen, and the teakettle is full.”

“All right!” said Andy, and he dashed downstairs.

“What’s he going to do?” ejaculated Susan, in surprise.

“Heaven only knows! How can he talk of hot water when there’s a burglar in the house? Lock the door, Sister Susan.”

“I don’t like to shut out poor Andy,” said Susan, in a distressed voice. “It’s my belief we shall find him a mangled corpse to-morrow morning, when we go downstairs.”

“I shan’t dare to go down at all. Oh, Susan, this is awful!”

Leaving the agitated spinsters in their trouble and terror, we must look after Andy.

He ran downstairs, seized the teakettle from the stove, grabbed a tin dipper, and then ran up to his chamber again.

He was just in time.

There, before the window, stood Mike Hogan, with the club in his hand and a look of triumph on his face. In the dim light, he did not see the teakettle.

“Well, my little bantam,” said he, “here I am again!”

“So I see,” said Andy, coolly.

“Once more, and for the last time, I ask you to open that window.”

“I would rather not.”

“You will, if you know what is best for yourself. Do you see this club?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Do you know what it is for?”

“Suppose you tell me.”

“It is to break open the window.”

“That is what I thought.”

“Comfound the boy! He’s a cool customer,” thought Hogan. “Bah! he must be a fool. Open that window, and I’ll give you ten dollars of the money,” he said, preferring, if possible, to avoid all trouble.

Of course, when he was fairly in possession of the money, he could break his promise and give Andy a beating, and he proposed to do both.

“A little while ago you offered me half the money,” said Andy.

“Things were different then. I didn’t have this club. What do you say?”

“That I am not a thief, and don’t mean to make a bargain with a thief!” answered Andy, resolutely.

“Then you may take the consequences, you young rascal!” exploded the burglar, garnishing his speech with an oath.

“In two minutes, I shall have you in my clutches!”

He swung back the club and brought it down with full force upon the window frame. Of course, the panes were shivered and the frail wooden sticks which constituted the frame were demolished. Another blow and the window lay in ruins on the carpet of Andy’s chamber.

“He’s killing Andy!” ejaculated the terrified spinsters, as the loud noise came to their ears. “What shall we do?”

They debated whether they should leave their chamber, and, seeking the scene of the tragedy, fall down on their knees before the terrible burglar and implore him to spare the life of their young defender. The spirit was willing, but the flesh was weak, and in terrible agitation they remained in their sanctuary.

“The crisis has come,” thought Andy, his nerves quivering with excitement.

And, unobserved by the triumphant burglar, he poured out the scalding hot water from the teakettle into the tin dipper.

Mike Hogan was in the act of scaling the window-sill, over the debris of the broken glass and wood, when Andy dashed the contents of the tin dipper into his face.

There was a fearful yell as the hot water deluged his face and neck, and the scalded burglar, losing his hold on the sill, blinded and maddened by pain, lost his footing and slipped down the sloping roof with ever-increasing rapidity. He rolled over at the eaves, and fell upon his back with a violence which lamed, though it did not disable him—a thoroughly demoralized burglar.

There was a pump and a trough in the yard. Hogan jumped up and ran hastily to it. He dipped his scalded face in the stream of water, and gained temporary relief. But the pain was altogether too great to allow him to think of anything else except that. To a man in his condition, money had no charms. A relief from pain was all he could think of. Again and again he dipped his face in the cool water, and his pain was somewhat abated.

“Oh, the young villain!” he groaned. “I wish I had him here. I’d tear him limb from limb.”

“Poor fellow!” thought Andy, pitying the poor wretch, though the imminent danger had forced him to inflict suffering upon him. “I am sorry for his pain, but I couldn’t defend myself in any other way. He won’t try to get in again, I’m thinking.”

He locked the door of the room from the outside, and decided to spend the rest of the night upon the sofa in the sitting-room. First, however, he went to the room of the old ladies, to tell them that the danger was past.