He carried a bag of meal on his shoulder--the one Mr.Owens had put in the barn that morning for the use of his horses--and in his hand something that looked like a stick of stove-wood; but it was in reality a strong iron strap, which he had found in the barn and which he intended to use to force an entrance into the smokehouse.

He deposited his bag of meal upon the ground, set to work upon the hasp with his lever and in a few minutes more the door swung open.
"Now is our time," whispered Bob, as the robber disappeared in the smoke-house.

"Stand by me and we'll have a prisoner when we go back to the house." Lester would have been very glad indeed to have had some excuse for remaining in his place of concealment, and allowing his companion to go on and capture the robber alone; but he could not think of any, and when Bob jumped up and ran toward the smoke-house, Lester followed him, taking care, however, to regulate his pace so that his friend could keep about ten or fifteen feet in advance of him.

Bob, who was in earnest and not in the least alarmed, moved with noiseless footsteps, while Lester, preferring to let the robber escape rather than face him with no better weapon than a fence picket in his hand, made all the noise he conveniently could, hoping that the man would take the alarm and run out of the smoke-house before they could reach it.

But the thief was so busily engaged that he did not hear their approach, and never dreamed of danger until the boys halted in front of the door and ordered him to come out and give himself up.