"Yes, and his feet too, the villain!" cried the boys in great excitement, tying knot after knot with Herculean jerks. The prisoner changed his tone. "Oh--oh!" he moaned, "spare a poor sick man--I was but walking in my sleep." "Ugh!" grunted Lambert, still tugging away at the rope, "asleep, were you? well, we'll wake you up." The man muttered fierce oaths between his teeth--then cried in a piteous voice, "Unbind me, good young masters! I have five little children at home. By Saint Bavon I swear to give you each a ten-guilder piece if you will but free me!" "Ha! ha!" laughed Peter. "Ha! ha!" laughed the other boys. Then came threats--threats that made Ludwig fairly shudder, though he continued to bind and tie with re-doubled energy. "Hold up! mynheer house-breaker," said Van Mounen in a warning voice. "That knife is very near your throat. If you make the captain nervous, there is no telling what may happen." The robber took the hint, and fell into a sullen silence. Just at this moment the chrysalis upon the bed stirred and sat erect. "What's the matter?" he asked, without opening his eyes. "Matter!" echoed Ludwig, half trembling, half laughing, "get up, Jacob. Here's work for you. Come sit on this fellow's back while we get into our clothes; we're half perished." "What fellow? Donder!" "Hurrah for Poot!" cried all the boys, as Jacob sliding quickly to the floor, bedclothes and all, took in the state of affairs at a glance, and sat heavily beside Peter on the robber's back. Oh, didn't the fellow groan, then! "No use in holding him down any longer, boys," said Peter, rising, but bending as he did so to draw a pistol from his man's belt. "You see, I've been keeping guard over this pretty little weapon for the last ten minutes. It's cocked and the least wriggle might have set it off. No danger now. I must dress myself. You and I, Lambert, will go for the police. I'd no idea it was so cold." "Where is Carl?" asked one of the boys. They looked at one another. Carl certainly was not among them. "Oh!" cried Ludwig, frightened at last, "where is he? Perhaps he's had a fight with the robber, and got killed." "Not a bit of it," said Peter quietly, as he buttoned his stout jacket. "Look under the beds." They did so. Carl was not there. Just then they heard a commotion on the stairway. Ben hastened to open the door. The landlord almost tumbled in; he was armed with a big blunderbuss. Two or three lodgers followed; then the daughter, with an upraised frying-pan in one hand, and a candle in the other; and, behind her, looking pale and frightened, the gallant Carl! "There's your man, mine host," said Peter, nodding toward the prisoner. Mine host raised his blunderbuss, the girl screamed, and Jacob, more nimble than usual, rolled quickly from the robber's back. "Don't fire," cried Peter; "he is tied, hand and foot. Let's roll him over, and see what he looks like."