"Huh!" grunted Bluff, a little incautiously it seemed, "they're going to do what I wanted to try--make an entrance. Some of them have gone to pick up that log, and others are peeking in at the window, where the hay sticks out. If it was bigger they'd just like to crawl through. And we sit here like a set of babies. Huh!"

"Hold up, now, and consider. What's to hinder our letting them do the work, and then when they go to reap the results we can just step up and take the plum away," cautioned his comrade.

"I see. Like the monkey that got the cat to pull his hot chestnuts out of the fire, eh? Talk about Jerry being a lawyer, he ain't in the same cla.s.s with you, Frank."

"Watch!" was all the other replied to this shower of bouquets.

"Something's going to happen to them fellers around there before they know it," remarked Tom Somers, grimly, though, of course, he followed the example of the others and kept his voice down to the lowest possible notch.

"What makes you say that?" asked Bluff, always eager for information.

"I seen something poking up along the roof. I reckon one of them hoboes is going to come out up thar, and drop something down on Pet and the fellers. Gee! but don't I hope he slams it in hard. It'd make my cuts sting a heap less if I see them guys have to take to the tall timber."

Tom was feeling vindictive, and really, after having seen his bruises, and remembering how shabbily he had been treated by his pards, Frank could hardly blame him for such a desire. Tom was only human, after all.

Still, what he had said aroused the curiosity of both Frank and Bluff.

They riveted their attention upon the roof of the cabin. As stated before, this being badly dilapidated, the hoboes had spent some time patching the same the best they knew how.

It was even now in a shaky condition, and apt to give way if any daring soul ventured to put his weight upon it.

At least Tom was right, for they quickly discovered that a certain portion of this roof was actually moving, and even as they looked what seemed to be a human arm was thrust through. Some one was evidently making an opening, removing the pieces one by one at a place where they had been fastened across a former hole.

Frank felt that there was something more about this than appeared on the surface. He also noted that the fellows on the ground had by now become aware that they were apparently about to be menaced from above; for he saw them crouching down under the spot from whence the pieces were falling, their eyes turned upward.

Then a head was finally thrust up through the opening. Bluff gasped again. It seemed as though he were bound to get shock after shock.

"Get next to that, will you?" he whispered in Frank's ear, as he clutched his sleeve and jerked hard; "why, it's our chum Jerry! Oh!

ain't he the candy kid, though?"

"Hush!" said the other, giving him a push, to keep him from rising in his excitement.

"Well, I take off my lid to him, anyway," whimpered Bluff, unable to give proper expression to his feelings.

The boy whose actions they were watching seemed to have made up his mind that he must get out of that cabin some way or other. He had been halted in his tunneling operations, and perhaps there was some reason why he might not resume them, or try and open the door; but Jerry evidently could not be held in restraint.

It was possible that his captors were dozing, and, taking advantage of the opportunity, he was about to quit their company by means of the hole he had made in the roof.

Now his body had appeared. He was testing the rotten timbers first to make positive that they would hold him.

Bluff hardly breathed as he stared as well as he could, for it was half dark here, even in the daytime. He knew that a mutual surprise awaited all the persons taking part in that little drama, when Jerry reached the edge and looked over. Those crouching below expected to see one of the tattered hoboes, while possibly Jerry hoped he might find his chums awaiting him.

"It's coming!" Frank heard him say, as he fumbled around for something; but he was so much interested himself that he did not give Bluff a second thought.

Then the creeping boy on the low roof of the cabin reached the edge.

They saw him stretch his neck so that his head projected over; and there he remained, as if frozen stiff by the strange sight that greeted him.

It was not so gloomy there alongside the shack but that his keen eyes could see, under the heavy growth of rank trees, the many faces up-turned toward him. At the same time, Pet and his mates made the astounding discovery that it was Jerry Wallington, after all, who had been about to descend in this peculiar way.

Too late, Frank realized what was coming. He heard the old familiar "click" close to his ear, and a thrill of alarm shot through his frame; but ere he could even wink, much less make the slightest movement, the thing was done.

Bluff had fired another cartridge connected with that camera of Will's.

Recognizing the proper elements for a powerful flashlight picture in the remarkable combination before him, he had proceeded to carry out Will's instructions, regardless of consequences.

Some of the cl.u.s.tering boys seemed ready to scamper off, but the voice of Pet recalled them to a sense of their duty. Besides, the prospect of becoming lost in those gloomy woods was not very flattering, and they huddled together.

"Hey, don't yuh let that skeer yuh, fellers. It's on'y some of that crazy Will Milton's photergraphy business. Stick to it, and get that reward. Don't a single one of yuh dar' to run!" was what he shouted.

The situation was rather embarra.s.sing for Jerry. He seemed to be between two fires as it were. If he came down, these angry boys stood ready to attack him; while to stay where he was meant that the hoboes would be able to reach him.

Frank began to wonder whether the time had not come for them to enter the game and stand by their chum. He had even arisen to his feet to make a forward movement when he saw that as usual, Jerry had his wits about him.

The boy on the quivering roof of the old shack was edging his way along.

He appeared to be aiming for a certain spot where a big tree swept its branches down so as to brush the roof.

It offered a refuge for any one who could neither come down nor remain where he was, and Jerry knew he could make it. Now he reached the nearest limb, and like a monkey scrambled upward. The one who caught him after that would have to be nimble indeed.

"Hurrah!" shouted Bluff, unable to restrain his admiration for the presence of mind on the part of his chum.

Perhaps, given time, and the Peters crowd might have attempted some further hostile move, looking to the capture of the boy who had just gained his freedom from a prison. Frank was grimly making up his mind that, no matter what happened, he did not mean to stand idly by and see Jerry fall into the hands of these fellows.

"Say, are you going to rush 'em?" demanded Bluff, fairly wild to make a charge.

"Not unless they start after Jerry. Just now they seem to be bent on capturing our friends, the hoboes, and we can afford to let them fight it out until both sides are exhausted, when our time will come. There they go at the door with the log as a battering ram! Whoop! what do you think of that?"

Frank's last exclamation was caused by a sudden movement on the part of the besieged; for the door had suddenly opened, and a pan of hot water was thrown out on the huddled holders of the log.

CHAPTER XXI--THE LAST STRAW

"Ouch! I'm scalded!"

"Skidoo, boys! there's more a-comin'!"

"Why didn't ye shoot, Bill, when ye had the chance? Gee! the skin's a-peelin' off me nose a'ready!"

No sooner had Waddy Walsh thrown the pan of hot water upon the advancing group that carried the log than he bolted inside again, and the bar was heard falling back of the door.

Then they heard the young savage laugh loud and long. It was this sound that aroused the pa.s.sions of the crowd. They no longer thought of flight. With the burning sensation that came with the hot water application, each fellow ached to be revenged. The worst of it was, most of them knew Waddy well, and indeed he had once been a member of this same crowd.

Down went the log to the ground. All thought of using it as a battering ram had left them now.

"Git behind the trees, fellers. It's us to the foolish house if we let that Waddy Walsh ketch us ag'in," shouted Pet, who was rubbing his face quite as vigorously as his comrades in misery.

Upon this they hustled for shelter. Each boy took to a tree that happened to come handy, and feeling safe from a further bombardment they gave vent to their feelings in all sorts of characteristic shouts.