“You’ll see how I do and _what_ I do,” was the grim reply. “What you doing in my house?” “We--we were just getting out,” answered Roy, with a sickly smile which was intended to be propitiating. “With your pockets full, I guess. You stay where you are, understand?” He brought the shot-gun up and laid it over his arm in a suggestive way that made Roy wish his legs were inside the window rather than out. “If you mean that we’ve been stealing anything,” said Chub tartly, “you’re making a mistake. We came up here to buy some milk and your fool dog ran at us and drove us into the house. And here we are. If you’ll take him out of the way we’ll get out.” “Guess you will,” chuckled the farmer. “Guess you’d be pretty glad to. But you won’t, understand? You get on back into that room.” This to Roy in a threatening growl that fairly lifted the boy’s legs over the sill and deposited them on the parlor carpet. “And you stay there till I come, understand? Watch ’em, Carlo!” Carlo growled and looked longingly at the boys. The farmer tucked the shot-gun under his arm and disappeared around the corner of the house. Roy and Chub looked at each other in comical dismay. “Doesn’t this beat the Dutch?” asked Chub. “Say, where’s Dick? I’ll wager he heard the old codger coming and has hidden. What are we going to do, Roy?” “Tell the truth. He hasn’t any business to keep us in here. If it hadn’t been for his old dog--” The farmer’s footsteps sounded in the entry and he entered the room, his shot-gun still under his arm. He looked around suspiciously, as though expecting to find the marble-topped center table and the cottage organ missing, and cast shrewd glances at the boy’s pockets. “Well, you see we haven’t stolen anything,” said Chub. “Well, I ain’t taking your word for it,” said the farmer, dryly. “Maybe if I hadn’t come when I did--” “Now, don’t be unreasonable,” begged Chub. “I’ve told you how we came to be here. We were passing along the road and wanted some milk--” “Thought you’d find it in the parlor, did ye?” “No, but your dog chased us in the back door and we couldn’t make any one hear by shouting--” “You shouted pretty loud, didn’t ye?” “Yes, I did,” answered Chub, defiantly, “but that idiotic dog made such a row with his barking that you couldn’t hear me. So then we came in here to get out the window, because the front door was locked. Now you know; and as we’re already late for supper, perhaps you’ll call off that fool dog and let us go home.” “Want to go, do ye?” asked their captor with a leer. “Yes, we do,” replied Chub, shortly. “Live right round here, I suppose?” “You can suppose anything you want to,” broke in Roy, hotly. “But we won’t tell you where we live. It’s none of your business and if you don’t let us out of here this minute we’ll make trouble for you.”