1gO Hans Brinker

followed ; then the daughter, with an upraised frying-pan in
one hand, and a candle in the other ; and behind her, looking
pale and frightened, the gallant Carl.

“There ’s your man, mine host,” said Peter, nodding toward
the prisoner.

Mine host raised his blunderbuss ; the girl screamed; and
Jacob, more nimble than usual, rolled quickly from the robber’s
back. :

“ Don’t fire!” cried Peter: “he is tied, hand and foot.
Let’s roll him over, and see what he looks like.”

Carl stepped briskly forward, with a blustering, “ Yes.
Veil turn him over in a way he won’t like. Lucky we ’ve
caught him!”

“Ha, ha!” laughed Ludwig: “where were you, Master
Carl?”

“Where was I?” retorted Carl, angrily. “Why, I went
to give the alarm, to be sure.”

All the boys exchanged glances; but they were too happy
and elated to say anything ill-natured. Carl certainly was bold
enough now. He took the lead, while three others aided him
in turning the helpless man.

While the robber lay, face up, scowling and muttering,
Ludwig took the candlestick from the girl’s hand.

“IT must have a good look at the beauty,” he said, drawing
closer; but the words were no sooner spoken than he turned
pale, and started so violently that he almost dropped the candle.

“ The wvoetspoelen!” he cried. ‘ Why, boys, it’s the man
who sat by the fire!”

“Of course it is,’ answered Peter. ‘We counted our
money before him like simpletons. But what have we to do
with voetspoelen, Brother Ludwig? A month in jail is punish-
ment enough.”