So the farmer was hailed and asked if he had seen anything of the craft.
"Waal now, I jest guess I did," he replied. "They war havin' great times on board of her—a-takin' care of that crazy gal."
"A crazy girl!" cried Dick. "Who said she was crazy?"
"One of the young men. He said she was his sister and had escaped from some asylum. She called to me to help her. But I don't want nuthin' to do with crazy gals. My wife's cousin was out of his head and he cut up high jinks around the house, a-threatenin' folks with a butcher knife."
"That girl was not crazy, though, as it happens," said Dick coldly. "That villain was carrying her away from home against her will. She was no relation to him."
"By gosh!" The farmer's face fell and he stared at the youth blankly. "You are certain of this?"
"Yes. We are after the crowd now. If we catch them we'll put them in prison, just as sure as you are the greatest greeny we ever met," continued Dick, and motioned to Harris to continue the journey.
The farmer wanted to "talk back," as the saying is, but could find no words. "Well, maybe
