"I'd like to fire a rock at him!" said Charlie, impetuously. "He may get into trouble yet," said Anak. "Let us go along." "Shall we go to the house and speak to Mr. Tarbox?" asked Charlie. "Yes, for he will know where to look for him." "I wonder what he will say when he sees you? Bet he'll be scared." "We'll soon let him understand that we came for his good." Mr. Tarbox was just about retiring, or rather he was making the usual preparations—bringing in kindling wood from the shed, raking out the fire, etc.—when a knock was heard at the outer door. In the Tarbox household such a thing as a visitor at half-past 10 o'clock in the evening was absolutely unknown. "Who can it be, Nathan?" asked Mrs. Tarbox, in a flutter. "How do I know?" returned her husband in the usual polite tone in which he was accustomed to address his wife. "Suppose it should be burglars?" suggested Mrs. Tarbox, nervously. "They'd be very likely to knock at the door, wouldn't they, you goose!" said her husband. "That's exactly what they always do, isn't it?" The knock was repeated. "Go to the door, Mrs. Tarbox." "Oh mercy, Nathan, I couldn't. I might be killed." "Give me the lamp, then, you fool!" Mrs. Tarbox readily gave her husband the lamp, and he strode to the door. When he opened it, and his inquiring glance fell on the towering form of Anak, it must be admitted that Mr. Tarbox himself felt nervous. He made a movement to close the door, but Anak thrust in his huge foot, and this made the effort impossible. "What do you want?" demanded Tarbox, his calmness not quite undisturbed. "We come on important business," said Anak, in his deep voice. "Then you might have come at a better time," said Tarbox, his fears dissipated and his ill-temper returning. "It is time all honest persons were abed." "So it is, Mr. Tarbox," answered Anak, "but I am afraid there is one dishonest person that is wide awake." "What do you mean?" demanded Tarbox, with a vague suspicion that the remark might be made at his expense. "Is there anything of value concealed under the barn yonder?" asked Anak, pointing to the one already referred to in a former chapter. "Why do you ask?" queried the farmer, turning pale, and eying the questioner with suspicion. "Because a man who has been discharged from our show—a canvas man, named Carden—was seen by Charlie here prowling about the barn this afternoon, and trying to look under it through a crack." Now Tarbox turned pale in earnest. "It must have been when I was there," he said. "Very likely; were you under it?" "Ye-es," answered the farmer. "Then he was watching you. You know best whether he was likely to see anything that could be of service to him." "Is he there now?" asked Tarbox, agitated. "I should not be at all surprised." "He may be robbing me at this moment," said Tarbox, wildly. "Then there is something hidden under the barn?" "Ye-es. What shall I do? Is he armed? Is he a strong man?"