Fortunately the farm belonging to Andy Dugan was not far distant. The farmer was a whole-souled Irishman and both boys had met him on more than one occasion at Mr. Westmore’s store. “Sure, an’ where did you b’ys spring from?” said Dugan, on opening the door. “’Tis a likely walk ye are from town.” “We’ve been out for some nuts, over to Glasby’s Hill,” answered Harry. “Ah now, so ye’ve got there before me, eh? I didn’t know ’twas known there was nuts there.” “Mr. Dugan, we want your help,” put in Joe, quickly. “Phat for, Joe—to help carry home the nuts? Where’s the bags?” “We met some tramps, and——” “Tramps? On this road ag’in?” Andy Dugan was all attention and his face grew sober. “Tell me about thim at onct!” The boys entered the farmhouse, where were collected the Dugan family, consisting of Mrs. Dugan, who weighed about two hundred and fifty pounds, and seven children, including three half-grown sons. All listened with close attention to what the Westmore boys had to relate. “Th’ schamps!” cried Andy Dugan. “Sure an’ they should be in the town jail! An’ was the watch an’ chain worth much?” “Twelve or fifteen dollars. And a birthday present, too.” “I’ll go after thim, that I will. Pat, git me gun, and you go an’ take yer own gun, too—an’, Teddy, git the pistol, an’ see if it’s after bein’ loaded. We’ll tache thim scallywags a lisson, so we will!” “That’s the talk, Mr. Dugan!” said Joe, brightening. “But you’ll have to hurry, or they’ll be gone.” “I’ll hurry all I can, lad. But phat about you? You’re too tired to walk back, ain’t ye?” “Lit thim roide the mare, Andy,” came from Mrs. Dugan. “Th’ mare wants exercise annyway.” “So they shall, Caddy,” answered the husband, and one of the smaller boys of the family was sent to bring the mare forth. In less than ten minutes the party was ready to set out, Andy Dugan and his son Pat with guns, Teddy, who boasted of a face that was nothing but a mass of freckles, with the pistol, and Joe and Harry, on the mare’s back, with clubs. The mare was rather a frisky creature, and both boys had all they could do to make her walk along as they wished. “She’s been in the sthable too long,” explained Andy Dugan. “She wants a run av a couple o’ miles to take the dancin’ out av her heels.” “Well, she mustn’t run now,” said Harry, who had no desire to reach the old barn before the others could come up. The wind was gradually going down, so journeying along the road was more agreeable than it had been. When they passed the little cottage they saw the old man peeping from behind a window shutter at them. “He’s a quare sthick, so he is,” said Andy Dugan. “But, as he is afther lavin’ us alone, we lave him alone.” The party advanced upon the barn boldly and when they were within a hundred yards of the structure, Joe and Harry urged the mare ahead. Up flew the rear hoofs of the steed and away she went pell-mell along the road. “Whoa! whoa!” roared Joe. “Whoa, I say!”