“Now, tell me exactly what happened last night, from the beginning,” said the sheriff. “I don’t want to ask you to come way up here from Massachusetts for the trial, so I’m taking this sworn testimony now. I think we have evidence enough to make your actual presence unnecessary.” Peanut started in on the story, told of his being awakened by the sound of the motor stopping in the road, of waking Art, of their sneaking out through the bushes, and hearing the two burglars talk. “What did they say, as exactly as you can remember it?” asked the sheriff. Peanut turned red, and glanced toward Mrs. Goodwin and her daughter. “Have I got to tell exactly?” he stammered. “We ain’t allowed to talk that way in the Scouts, even without ladies present.” Everybody laughed, and the officer with them. “You can put in blanks,” he answered. Peanut, with Art’s help, and also Rob’s, who came upon the scene at this point, as the reader will remember, and also with the aid of many “blanks,” reconstructed the conversation as well as he could. Then Art took up the narrative, and described the ride up the valley, the cutting of the tires, the pulling out of the wire in the engine (which the burglars had put back again), and the subsequent arousing of the neighborhood. “Well, that’s some story!” said the sheriff, with admiration. “That’s what I call quick action, and brave action. One thing you didn’t do you might have--you might have cut out a piece of that wire so they couldn’t have put it back. But if you had, they wouldn’t have tried to get away in the car, but would have taken to the mountain, and perhaps escaped, so it’s just as well.” He shook hands heartily with Art and Peanut, and then with the rest of the boys, and departed. “Now for dinner!” cried Mr. Goodwin. Mrs. Goodwin led the way to the dining-room, while her husband explained to the boys as they went along that all the wedding presents had been shipped back to a New York vault, under guard that day, to avoid the chance of another scare. They took their places at the big table, which was gay with candles, Art and Peanut having places of honor beside Mrs. Goodwin and her daughter. There were great, snowy napkins to spread on their laps, and there was iced grape fruit to begin on, and soup, and roast beef, and all sorts of good things, ending up with ice-cream. As it was after seven thirty before they sat down, and the boys had eaten nothing but emergency rations at noon, you may be sure that nobody refused a second helping of anything, just to be polite. In fact, Mrs. Goodwin saw to it that everything came around twice. “My, nobody has eaten like this in my house for a long time!” she said, “and a housekeeper does like to see her food enjoyed. John”--this to her husband--“why don’t you climb Lafayette every day, so you can get up a real appetite?” “I wouldn’t, alas!” he laughed. “I’d just get lame legs and a headache. Lafayette’s for the young folks. Have some more ice-cream, Peanut?”