or an explanation,
which his son gave in a few hurried words.

"Hooh!" exclaimed his parent; "there's robbers in the post office and I
think I'll take a hand as soon as I can get hold of my shotgun."

Which may serve to explain how it was that Gerald Buxton became involved
in the incidents that speedily followed.

CHAPTER XVIII

A CLEVER TRICK

At the foot of the rear stairs in the home of Widow Friestone was an
ordinary door latched at night, but without any lock. When Mike Murphy
was groping about in the blank darkness, where nothing was familiar, he
did not know, as has been said, of the steepness of the steps. Thus he
placed his shoe upon vacancy, and, unable to check himself, bumped to the
bottom, striking every step on the route, and banging against the door
with such force that the latch gave away, it flew open, and he sprawled
on his hands and knees, still grasping the rifle with which he had set
out to hunt for burglars. He was not hurt, and bounded like a rubber ball
to his feet.

An amazing scene confronted him. A young man, his face covered with a
mask, had just drawn back the ponderous door of the safe, and by the
light of a small dark lantern in his left hand was trying to unlock one
of the inner compartments, with a bunch of small keys held in his right.
It was at this instant that the racket followed by the crash which burst
open the door paralyzed him for the moment. He straightened up and stared
through the holes of his mask at the apparition that had descended upon
him like a thunderbolt, in helpless amazement.

If he was terrified, Mike Murphy was not. Forgetful of his shillaleh in
the shape of the Springfield, he made a leap at the fellow.

"S'render, ye spalpeen!" he shouted. The criminal answered by viciously
hurling the lantern into the face of his assailant, and in the act, the
mask somehow or other was disarranged and slipped from its place. It was
only a passing glimpse that Mike caught of him, but it identified him as
one of the young men who had attacked Alvin Landon some nights before
while passing through the stretch of woods near his home.

The throwing of the lamp was the best thing the burglar could have done,
for it caught the Irish youth fairly between the eyes and dazed him for
an invaluable second or two. Instant to seize his advantage, the criminal
made a leap through the rear window, which he had left open for that
purpose, and sped like a deer across the back ya