"Well, fellows, we might as well go home. The brute's settled
down for the night, I reckon."
"What time is it?"
"Half past two," announced the first speaker.
"Well, well, I should say it was time to go. Not going to stay
with him, are you, sheriff?"
"Not necessary. He can't get out."
After listening at the closed door, the one whom Phil judged to
be an officer joined his companions and all walked leisurely down
the road.
The lad remained in the fence corner for sometime, but he stood
up after they had gone. He did not dare move about much, fearing
that Emperor might hear and know him and raise a great tumult.
Phil waited all of half an hour; then he climbed the fence and
slipped cautiously to the door of the shop.
It was securely locked.
"Oh, pshaw! That's too bad," grumbled the lad. "How am I going
to do it?"
Phil ran his fingers lightly over the fastening, which consisted
of a strong hasp and a padlock.
"What shall I do? I dare not try to break the lock. I should be
committing a crime if I did. Perhaps I am already. No; I'm not,
and I shall not. I'll just speak to Emperor, then start off on
foot after the show.
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