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“Well, what do you mean to do?” asked Ranney, doggedly.

“To capture you, Dick Ranney, and hand you over to the law which you have so persistently violated.”

“That you will never do,” said Ranney, and he dashed toward the window, thrusting Manning to one side.

But what he saw increased his dismay. The ladder had been removed, and if he would leave the room he must leap to the ground, a distance of over twenty feet.

“Confusion!” he exclaimed. “The ladder is gone!”

“Yes, I directed the stable-boy to keep awake and remove it,” explained Manning.

“I may be taken, but I will be revenged first,” shouted Dick Ranney, and he flung himself on Manning, who, unprepared for the sudden attack, sank to the floor, with Ranney on top. But the outlaw's triumph was short-lived. Walter sprang to Manning's rescue, seized the revolver, and, aiming it at the burglar, cried quickly:

“Get up, or I'll fire!”

Dick Ranney rose sullenly. He paid Walter the compliment of believing he meant what he said.

“It's your turn, boy,” he muttered.

“Stay where you are!” ordered Walter, and he walked slowly backward, still covering the robber with the revolver, till he reached the door opening into the entry.

Dick Ranney watched him closely, and did not offer any opposition, for it occurred to him that the opening of the door would afford him a better chance for flight.

No sooner, therefore, was the door open than he prepared to avail himself of the opportunity, running the risk of a bullet wound, when his plans were frustrated by the entrance of two village constables—strong, sturdy men.

“Dick Ranney, do you surrender?” asked Walter, in a clear, resolute tone.

Ranney looked slowly from one to the other and calculated the chances. The ladder was gone and he found himself facing four foes, three of them strong men, some of them armed.

“It's all up with me!” he said quietly. “I surrender.”

“You do wisely,” remarked Manning. “Now, will you restore my wallet?”

The outlaw took it out of his pocket and handed it over.

“There it is,” he said. “I suppose you won't me to pay interest for the use of the money.”

The two constables advanced, and one of them took out a pair of handcuffs.

“Hold out your hands!” he said.

The burglar did so. He saw that opposition would not benefit him, and he yielded to the inevitable with a good grace.

“It seems I walked into a trap,” he said. “If you don't mind telling me, were you expecting me?”

“Yes,” answered Walter.

“Did the boy betray me?” he asked quickly.

“No; the boy suspected nothing wrong, but his questions excited suspicion.”

“Dick Ranney,” said the outlaw, apostrophizing himself, “you're a fool! I should like to kick you!”

“I think you were imprudent, Mr. Ranney,” said Manning,

“It was this revolver that undid me,” said Ranney. “I wanted to recover it, for it was given me by my old captain. It was never out of my possession till that boy snatched it from me. I suppose it was to be,” and he sighed, comforted, perhaps, by the thought that it would have been useless to struggle against fate.





CHAPTER XXVII WALTER BECOMES A CAPITALIST

Professor Robinson slumbered on, blissfully unconscious of the events that had made the night an exciting one. When he came downstairs early in the morning he strayed accidentally into the room where Dick Ranney was confined under guard. Being short-sighted, he did not see the captive until Ranney hailed him.

“Good morning, professor!”

The professor skipped nimbly back and gazed at the prisoner in alarm.

“You here?” he exclaimed.

“Yes,” answered Dick, grimly.

“But how did it happen?”

“I came to the hotel a little after midnight to make you a call, but went first to the room of your assistant.”

“What, after midnight?”

“Yes. It is hardly necessary to explain what happened. Here I am!”

“Ah, my friend,” said the professor, “this may be fortunate for you, if it leads you to consider and reflect upon the errors of your life.”

“Oh, stow that!” exclaimed Ranney, in disgust. “I'm not that kind of a man. I follow my own course and take the consequences.”

The professor shook his head sadly and went out. Later, when he heard what had happened, he said to Walter: “If that man had come into my room at midnight I should have died of fright.”

“There was no occasion to be alarmed,” returned Walter, “We were prepared for him.”

“I—I am afraid I was never cut out for a hero,” said the professor. “My nervous system is easily upset.”

The plain truth was that Professor Robinson was a born coward, though he was stronger and more muscular, probably, than Grant, Sherman or Sheridan. But it is not brawn and muscle that make a hero, but the spirit that animates the man, and of this spirit the professor had very little. Yet in after years when he had retired from business and was at leisure to live over again his past life, he used to tell with thrilling effect how he and Walter had trapped and captured the daring outlaw, Dick Ranney, and received admiring compliments upon his courage and prowess, which he complacently accepted, though he knew how little he deserved them.

It so chanced that Stilwell was the county seat and court was in session at that time, and nearly ready to wind up its business. It was owing to this circumstance that the trial of Dick Ranney was held at once. By request Walter and the professor remained to bear testimony against the prisoner, and Manning also strengthened the case against him. Within less than a week the trial was concluded, a verdict of guilty was brought in, and the prisoner sentenced to a ten years' term of imprisonment.

Dick Ranney heard the sentence with philosophical calmness.

“My good friend,” said the professor, “I trust that in your long years of confinement you will reflect upon—”

“Don't worry about that,” interrupted Dick. “I sha'n't be

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