When Roy and Dick and Harry reached the store they found, to their satisfaction, that the village inhabitants had gazed their fill and gone. Roy and Dick amused themselves for a while in discovering clues and evolving theories, but that amusement finally palled, and they joined Harry at the front of the store and awaited the advent of Mrs. Peel. With the doors open front and back it was fairly cool, although outside the sun was baking hot. Two hours wore themselves away to the slow ticking of the old clock, and Dick became restless.

“My!” he exclaimed, “I wish the old lady would come if she’s coming!”

“So do I,” said Roy, heartily. “And I wish I could get a drink of cold water somewhere.”

“Why not use the watering-trough?” asked Dick. “Come on. I’m thirsty, too. Have some, Harry?”

But Harry declined, and the boys went out and held their mouths to the little iron pipe. And while they were drinking a two-seated carriage turned the corner and drew up in front of the store. On the back seat were Mrs. Peel and a tall man who, in spite of the heat, wore a long black frock-coat buttoned tightly about his lank form.

“That’s Mrs. Peel!” whispered Roy. “Come on!”

Mrs. Peel climbed nimbly out of the carriage and entered the store, while her companion remained to haggle with the driver over the amount to be paid for the drive from the station. Roy and Dick entered close behind Mrs. Peel.

“How do you do?” asked Harry, in a small voice.

“Why, bless me, my dear,” exclaimed Mrs. Peel, “I didn’t think to find you here!” She looked about the store. “Where’s Jennie?”

“She didn’t come,” answered Harry, gaining courage, “and so we’ve been keeping store for you. And we sold over twelve dollars’ worth of things—”

“I want to know!” said Mrs. Peel, beamingly.

“Yes’m, but last night some one broke into the store and stole the money and a lot of things!”

The little woman paled and glanced apprehensively about her.

“Burglars!” she whispered. “But who—”

“I guess we don’t have to look very far for ’em,” said a voice at the doorway. Roy and Dick started and looked up. It was the man in the black frock-coat.

“Thunder!” muttered Roy, softly. “It’s Jim Ewing!”

“This is my brother-in-law, Mr. Ewing,” faltered Mrs. Peel. “This young lady is the one I was telling you about, James, and these gentlemen—they are friends of yours, my dear?”

“Yes,” answered Harry, “we’re all together with my father and Chub—you saw him the other day—on a house-boat.”

Roy and Dick were gazing fascinatedly at the farmer, and Mr. Ewing was staring malevolently back at them.

“James, there’s been thieves here,” said Mrs. Peel, “and they stole—how much did they take, Miss?”

“They took all the money in the drawer,” said Harry, “and we reckoned up that they’d taken about nine dollars’ worth of bacon and canned goods. They broke in the back door—”

“Up to your old tricks again, are ye?” asked Mr. Ewing, harshly. “Ain’t content with robbing farms, eh? Have to take the bread out of the mouths of the widows and orphans, too, do ye?”

“Why, James!” ejaculated Mrs. Peel, bewilderedly. “You don’t understand! These aren’t the thieves! These gentlemen are—”

“Don’t need to tell me anything about ’em,” grunted the farmer. “We’ve met before, ain’t we?”

“We have,” replied Roy, dryly.

“Didn’t think you’d dare deny it,” was the triumphant response. “Well, I guess we’ve met once too frequent for your good, you young rascals! I guess—”

“Why, what do you mean, James?” cried Mrs. Peel, nervously.

“Mean? Mean that these folks is a parcel of thieves, that’s what I mean, Amanda! Travel around country, they do, in some sort of a floatin’ robbers’ den. They broke into my house early in the spring and stole more’n thirty dollars worth of silverware. And then here a while ago, when Millie was up visiting you, they come around again, and I found ’em at their tricks and pretty nigh got ’em. But this time I’ll wager they’ll get what they deserve. You go out, Amanda, and send some one for the constable.”

But Mrs. Peel was beyond running errands. She subsided into a chair and fanned herself with her bonnet, looking dazed and frightened.

“You said they was friends of yours,” she whispered weakly to Harry.

“They are,” replied Harry, stoutly and indignantly, “and this gentleman is quite mistaken. The store was robbed last night, while we were all asleep on the boat or in the tent.”

“Of course, of course,” chuckled the farmer. “You didn’t know anything about it, young lady; I don’t say you did. But I guess these fellers here can pretty nigh put their hands on the things if they want to. Where’s the other chap?” he demanded of Roy.

“He’s—he’s fishing,” answered Roy.

“Fishin’, eh? Carried a bag along with him, didn’t he? To bring the fish home in, eh? Yes, he’s fishin’, I’ll be bound—fishin’ in hen-coops, likely! Got a room where we can lock ’em in, Amanda, till the constable comes?”

“Why, James, I—I—don’t know what to think! I’m sure these young gentlemen wouldn’t do such a thing! And—and even if there is a few things missing,” she continued, nervously, “I—I wouldn’t want to make any trouble, James.”

“You don’t need to,” he replied, grimly. “I’ll make the trouble. Now you get up and march into the house, right through that side door there.” This to Roy and Dick.

“Look here, Mr. Ewing,” said Roy, calmly, “you’ve made a fool of yourself once before, and it’s time to quit. We weren’t robbing your house that other time, and we don’t know any more about this affair than we’ve told you. And if you think we’re going to let you lock us up in a stuffy old room just so you can make a goose of yourself, you’re mightily mistaken. Come on, Harry, and leave this crazy man to himself.”

“No, you don’t!” cried the farmer. “You stay where you are! I’m going to have the law on you, I say! Don’t you defy the law now! Don’t you do it! If you do it’ll go hard with you, I tell you that! I’ve warned ye!”

“James,” gasped Mrs. Peel, “don’t be violent! Just—just let’s hear what they have to say. You tell me, my dear, all about it.”

“Then he mustn’t call Roy and Dick thieves,” answered Harry, angrily. “He’s a horrid old man, whoever he is.”

“Tell Mrs. Peel all about it, Harry,” said Roy, in a bored tone. “See if you can make her understand.”

“Well,” said Harry, pausing a moment to collect her thoughts, “it was like this.” And she told the story of the burglary from the time of Mrs. Peel’s departure to the station to her return. Mr. Ewing sniffed and snorted at intervals, and Dick looked several times as though he was having hard work to refrain from pitching into him, but Mrs. Peel listened attentively to every word, and when the narrative was finished turned in triumph to her brother-in-law.

“There, James,” she said. “I told you you were mistaken. And these young gentlemen have put the money back in the drawer—which I’m sure they aren’t beholden to do—and it’s there now.”

“A check!” scoffed the farmer. “I reckon I wouldn’t count too much on any piece of paper they give you.” But it was to be seen, nevertheless, that Mr. Ewing was somewhat shaken in mind, for it would have been very difficult for any one to have disbelieved Harry’s story.

“Oh, if that’s all that’s troubling you,” said Roy, “we’ll give you the cash instead.”

“And how about the other things you stole?”

“We didn’t steal them. And I guess you’ll have to look for them yourself,” said Roy, wearily.

“And how about my silverware?”

“Oh, bother your silverware!” exploded Dick. “I don’t believe you ever owned any! Anyhow, I’m sick of hearing about it. Come on, Roy, let’s mosey along.”

But the farmer strode to the door, closed it, turned the key in the lock, and dropped the key into his pocket.

“You’ll stay where you are a bit longer,” he snarled. “I ain’t decided yet what to do with you.” Then, before either Roy or Dick remembered the back door, he had headed them off in that direction as well, and, with both keys in his pocket, was master of the situation.