“We’ll be on them in a minute,” said Nick. “Got an extra pair of handcuffs, Patsy?” “Sure!” and Patsy dove into his pocket and brought out a pair of bracelets. “I was pretty well stripped by Clancy and his gang before they threw me in the river,” went on Nick. “We’ll get your property back in short order, Nick,” said Chick. “We’ll have a fight first. By George! they’re jumping from the automobile and taking to the woods!” “They’re going to make a run of it, the cowards!” exclaimed Patsy. “You take the tall man, Patsy,” said Nick. “I’ll attend to the short, thickset individual, and you, Chick, can take the other.” “All right,” came from Chick and Patsy. Presently the electric auto was alongside the Red Spider, and the detectives leaped into the road and started for the woods. At the edge of the timber a volley was fired at them, the bullets whistling through the air uncomfortably close. The fire of the robbers was returned, the detectives leaping forward. In a few moments they caught sight of Clancy and his pals. They were separating and making in different directions. “Here’s where we divide,” said Nick. “Remember, we’ve got to have those men before they get across the line.” “They’re ours!” said Chick. “Easy!” added Patsy. Patsy’s man was Cricket, and the way Patsy sprinted after him was a sight to see and remember. Through the woods, pell-mell, raced the grafter and the detective, leaping over logs, plunging through bushes, and halting now and again to try a shot at each other. None of the bullets took effect, and both Patsy and Cricket had soon used up their ammunition. “It will be a give-and-take with our mitts now,” thought Patsy, “and it’s a mighty good thing that I’m the best runner. Hello! There’s a farmhouse, and Mr. Grafter is making right for it.” There was a clearing in the woods, and Cricket leaped a fence and made for the farm buildings. At first he headed toward the house, but a sight of the farmer and his wife, and a contingent of children, with a hired man and a bulldog in the background, caused him to change his mind. Swerving to the right, he pushed for the barn. “Hi, there!” cried Patsy. “He’s a thief! Head him off! Stop him!” Instead of trying to head off the fleeing robber, however, the farmer and his family retreated into the house at a double quick. “Hurry, Hiram!” cried the woman, frantically. “They’re tramps, and we’ll all be killed, I know we will!” “Don’t you fret, Mirandy!” whooped the farmer. “I’ll take care of you.” Then the door was slammed shut, effectually debarring the entrance of the hired man. “Le’me in!” bellowed the hired man, banging at the door with his clinched fists. “Gosh all hemlocks, d’ye want me tew git killed?” “You don’t amount to nothin’, Willyum,” called the farmer from behind the door; “they won’t kill you. Set Tige on ’em!” The hired man whirled and loped toward the barn. Seeing Patsy making in that direction, William sidetracked into a corn crib.