"
"Bill, where's the sack?" the voice asked, impatiently.
"I dunno!" answered another voice, sourly. "You had it. I've cut my
knee on that there wall; I can feel the blood running down my leg."
"You always manages to do something," was all the sympathy Bill got.
"We've got to 'ave the sack, so you'd better find it. How're we to
carry the birds without it? In our hats?"
"It's the fowls!" thought Huldah, thrilling with excitement.
"They're going to steal the fowls. Oh, they shan't! The lady'll
think it's me. Oh, what can I do? How can I tell her? I _must_
stop them, somehow!"
Bill had gone back in search of the sack, and the other thief stood
waiting for him. Huldah had time to think, but no plan came to her.
She did not know her way, nor where to turn for help; and if she
screamed, they would only find her out, and knock her about.
They would steal the fowls all the same. A slight movement beside
her recalled her thoughts, and sent her spirits up with a bound.
"Dick! why, of course Dick would help her!"
Quick as thought she crept to the door, and with one hand on Dick's
collar she gently raised the latch with the other. Bill had
evidently found the sack, for the thieves were together again; she
heard them whispering. One even seemed to be already fumbling with
the latch of the fowls' house door.
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