He was on the point of pushing on the door again, when a cry from the yard reached his ears.
"Dick! Dick! Come and stop them!" It was Tom who was calling.
"I'm coming, Tom!" he yelled back. And then he landed on the door with all his might.
"Don't br—break the door!" gasped the old man. "If you want to get out to the back, go up and down the stairs," and he pointed a trembling finger upward.
Dick understood, and ran up the front stairs three steps at a time. He passed through a short hallway and then reached a stairs, running down to a back entryway. As he went down these stairs there came another cry from Tom.
"Dick! Dick! they are getting away!"
As fast as he could, Dick reached the entryway and threw open the outer door. He came out in a small yard, surrounded on three sides by a high board fence. At the rear was a gate, and this was wide open.
"Tom! you are hurt!" exclaimed Dick, as he caught sight of his brother flat on his back, and with the blood oozing from a cut on his forehead.
"Yes, the rascal hit me in the head with a club!" gasped poor Tom.
"What rascal?"
