the seat, so you see no one grabbed you. I wonder if it would pay us to stop a minute."
"What for, Frank? I hope you haven't got any fool notion now that you want to try and capture those two burglars; because I wont stand for it, never!"
"Shucks! what do you take me for? All I thought of doing was to cut a switch by the roadside, which we could use to send the old nag on a little faster; but since you are so shy about it we'll drop the subject. Give me the lines, and let's see if I can coax a little more speed out of Lazybones."
Lanky gladly released the reins; but it might be noticed that he did not allow his feet to trail under the buggy seat again. Imagination or not, he meant to keep clear of any entanglement in case one of those desperate men reached in to lay hold of that old leather traveling bag.
"Get up, Dobbin!" said Frank, slapping the lines on the back of the slow-going animal, and awakening him from his trance, so that for a dozen yards he actually set a smart pace; but only to fall back again into the regular jogging movement.
"He isn't lazy, but tired to death. Guess we better let the poor beast take his time, or he may drop in the shafts," grunted Lanky, noticing these things.
Every minute he was peering out from the upraised hood of the buggy.
