The Mystery Megapack

slept in, and some tinned grub opened, and water boiled on an oil stove.”
    “If you folks are nervous,” Lizzie invited, “you’re more’n welcome to come over and stop with us till they catch him. You’d feel easier where there’s four of us, than just you two, being as you’re strangers here. There’s plenty of room, and folks say they never get up hungry from my table!”
    “That is awfully dear of you, Mrs. Hooper; but truly, Frank and I are not alarmed. He has his revolver ready, and we are careful about our doors and windows. Nobody could get in without making a lot of noise, and Frank will give them a warm welcome! Besides, Larkin is on guard near by; and soon as he heard a shot he’d hurry to us with his rifle.”
    “Well, that’s sensible,” Lizzie Hooper agreed. “But I didn’t know just how you’d feel about it, and wanted you to know we feel sort of responsible for getting you up here, where you expected to have a good rest!”
    The good woman stayed for an hour or so and helped Annie with advice about certain details of cooking; and Frank chatted pleasantly enough with Jed, over a couple of mugs of the smooth cider from the keg in the cellar. There was less passing along the road, today; but quite a number had been identified by Jed during his call, and there were others who were strangers to him.
    “I reckon I know by sight every man within fifteen mile,” he declared. “So there must be some who have come from quite a ways off. Cats ain’t all the critters that are pestered by curiosity! Well, we got into the city papers, anyhow; Portland, and even Boston. Your name’s mentioned, too. ‘Mr. Frank Weston and wife, of Riverside Drive, New York, are summering in Fast Harbor, which is just now the center of an unknown bandit’s activities.’ That’s what it said; I memorized it to tell ye.”
    Weston laughed. “I don’t know as this sort of publicity does any of us much good!”
    Hooper pondered over this. “I’ve heard say that it don’t matter so much what they say about ye, if only they say something!”
    “That has been the motto of some famous characters,” Weston admitted. “Anyhow, the more publicity, the harder it will be for the bandit to escape capture. There must be a hundred men looking for him, right now.”
    “We’re a leetle mite slow getting started,” Jed said. “But the whole county will be on his trail before the week’s out. The reward will fetch him, I know I could use that five hundred easy! And so could a lot of others. Guess likely you’re the only resident that don’t need it.”
    After the Hoopers had left, and with the potatoes boiling for dinner, Annie joined her husband, sitting beside him on the doorstep. There seemed nothing better to do than to watch the passersby. But of these, there seemed only a scattered few. There was nothing to attract them to this particular spot; those who passed were on their way to the Bronson house or old man Tucker’s shack, or the looted cottage. And by noon, the road was as deserted as usual. Larkin wouldn’t come on till dark.
    Suddenly, and without warning, a small gray body hurtled between them, shot out into the yard, and made for a clump of junipers. It was Romeo, his hair erect, whiskers twitching, and spitting as he went. His tail would have been ruffed up had it been anything but the mere stump it was!
    Weston’s pipe had dropped from his surprised lips. Annie screamed a little, then laughed. “Well, what do you know about that! He was asleep by the kitchen stove when I came out. What do you suppose—”
    Her words died away as a slight noise from the rear of the house caught her ear. She rose and turned toward the kitchen.
    “Wait! Let me go first,” Frank cried; and thrusting her aside almost brusquely, he hurried through the living room and into the kitchen. At the door, he paused uncertainly. A man—a stranger—stood in the middle of the floor, regarding him with a faint grin.
    He was a slightly built, pleasant-faced man of about thirty-five, dressed neatly and almost fastidiously in well-fitting clothes, and wearing a pearl-gray felt hat which he removed as he caught sight of Weston’s wife standing at his shoulder. He set down a small traveling bag as he spoke.
    “I knocked, but I fancy you didn’t hear me.”
    His voice was agreeable and low pitched. “And I seem to have scared your cat into a fit! Sorry.”
    “What did you do to Romeo?” Annie asked, her courage