ay in
through the little opening, after having gently forced the catch of the
swinging window.
Paul could hear the sound of his heels striking on the boards of the
gymnasium floor. And just as he had anticipated, the intruder was
supplied with matches, for he immediately struck a light, in order to
look around, and get his bearings.
Paul thought it time to beat a silent retreat in the direction of the
ashcan he had selected as his cover. When settling down he managed to
give the signal that the other three would recognize as denoting
caution, and that they must remain on the alert every second of the
time.
Now Bud was coming. Paul could hear him stumbling along, grumbling when
he banged into the open door, simply because his sense of observation
had not been so highly developed as had that of the young scout leader.
But by striking another match Bud managed to locate the cause of his
trouble. He was glimpsed by Paul, spying around the edge of his screen,
and seemed to be rubbing his forehead vigorously, as though he might
have raised a lump there in his contact with the door.
Some one pounded from without.
"Hi! there, Bud, what's keeping you?" demanded Ted, gruffly, unable to
control his impatience.
"All right, I'm here. But you'll have to wait a little, fellers," said
Bud, who had struck a third match in order to size up the situation
around the neighborhood of the exit.
It was rather strange that in looking about him he failed to discover
some sign of the presence of those four forms cowering behind as many
tall ashcans; but perhaps this was because they managed to keep well out
of sight.
"What's the matter in there? Why don't you open up?" called Ted, again
rapping his knuckles on the wooden barrier.
"Hold on! There's a lot of cans heaped up with ashes in the way. I'll
have to move a bunch of 'em first, before I kin open the door," declared
Bud; and to himself he muttered: "and I just don't like the looks of
this hole any too much, tell yuh that, now. Reckon theys a hull heap of
rats ahangin' around here. Ugh! what a fool I was to come in here
anyhow. Gee! listen, would you?"
A sudden squealing sounded somewhere close to the feet of Bud. It was
exactly like the angry cry of a fighting rat. But Paul understood
instantly that Bobolink must be the cause of all this racket; for he had
known his friend on numerous occasions to make good use of his gift as
an amateur ventriloquist.
Bud was in a
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