gh up on
the "Old Man's Chimney,"--Barney might have thought himself the more
fortunately placed of the two.

Before he was well aware of it, the wagon was jolting into the town. He
took no notice of how much larger the little village was than any he had
ever seen before. His attention was riveted by the faces of the people
who ran to the doors and windows, upon recognizing the officers, to
stare at him as one of the burglars.

When the wagon reached the public square, a number of men came up and
stopped it.

Barney was surprised that they took so little notice of him. They were
talking loudly and excitedly to the officers, who grew at once loud and
excited, too.

The boy roused himself, and began to listen to the conversation. The
burglars had been captured!--yes, that was what they were saying. The
deputy-sheriff had nabbed the whole gang in a western district of the
county this morning early, and they were lodged at this moment in jail.
Barney's heart sank. Would he be put among the guilty creatures? He
flinched from the very idea.

Suddenly, here was the deputy-sheriff himself, a young man, dusty and
tired with his long, hard ride, but with an air of great satisfaction in
his success. He talked with many quick gestures that were very
expressive. Sometimes he would leave a sentence unfinished except by a
brisk nod, but all the crowd caught its meaning instantly. This
peculiarity gave him a very animated manner, and he seemed to Barney to
enjoy being in a position of authority.

He pressed his foaming horse close to the wagon, and leaning over,
looked searchingly into Barney's face.

The poor boy looked up deprecatingly from under his limp and drooping
hat-brim.

All the crowd stood in silence, watching them. After a moment of this
keen scrutiny, the deputy turned to the constable with an interrogative
wave of the hand.

"This hyar's the boy what war put through the winder-pane ter thieve
from Blenkins," said Jim Dow. "Thar's consider'ble fac's agin him."

"You mean well, Jim," said the deputy, with a short, scornful laugh.
"But your performance ain't always equal to your intentions."

He lifted his eyebrows and nodded in a significant way that the crowd
understood, for there was a stir of excitement in its midst; but poor
Barney failed to catch his meaning. He hung upon every tone and gesture
with the intensest interest. All the talk was about him, and he could
comprehend no more than if the man spoke