While the latter was calling upon the robber to surrender,
Bob heard a slight rustling in the smoke-house, and knowing very well
what it meant, he jumped back out of the door-way, and raised his
club in readiness to strike; but the thief was out and gone before he
could think twice. The instant the robber landed on his feet outside
the door, he turned toward the place where he had left his bag of
meal and happened to come into collision with Lester, who went down
with a jar that made him think every bone in his body was broken. It
was a minute or two before he could collect his scattered wits and
raise himself to his feet, and then he found that he was alone. Bob
was scudding across the field in pursuit of the robber, who carried
a side of bacon on one shoulder and the bag of meal on the other;
but burdened as he was he ran quite fast enough to distance Bob, who
presently came back to the smoke-house, panting and almost exhausted.
"Is he gone?" asked Lester, who was groping about on the ground in
search of his club.
"I should say he was," Bob managed to reply. "He ran like a deer. He
knocked you flatter than a pancake, didn't he?"
"He didn't hurt me as badly as I hurt him," said Lester.
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