CLOSED," SAID PETER.]

The small figure in the shabby gray sweater and tough looking cap was
nervous and apprehensive and angry with a righteous anger. But he did
not tremble like the poor little lonely figure waiting in the darkness
with eyes fixed upon those two dazzling, glaring eyes.
Five-o-seven-nine-two. There it is, Peter; read it again as the car
draws nearer to make sure. Yes, that is a _five_. Five-o-seven-nine-two.
Don't you see the little gilt eagle on the radiator? He trembled, oh how
he trembled.

"Looker here, you kid," said the driver to the huddled up figure beside
him; "I once croaked a boy scout that didn't do what I told him. Do you
see? I _croaked_ him. No scout kid can put anything over on me; I won't
have any kids interfering with my plans--"

Oh yes you will, Mr. Swiper. You may have escaped from jail, the
authorities of a dozen states may be after you. But just the same you
are going to stop when a little trembling pioneer scout in homespun
pantaloons tells you to. Look ahead, where that dim light is, Mr.
Swiper, with the cropped hair. Do you see something shining there, held
in a little trembling hand? That is a knife, Mr. Swiper. The trembling
hand that holds that knife belongs to a soul possessed, Mr. Swiper. He
is crazed with a high resolve. See how he shakes? Oh he is not thinking
of _you_. He is thinking of the car, Mr. Swiper. He is not himself at
all and he is going to slash your tires if you pass that rope, Mr.
Swiper. So you see?

For it is said that opportunity knocks once at everyone's door, Mr.
Swiper. It came to you on the ruins of that old school. And it has come
away down here, Mr. Swiper, and knocked on the door of Peter Piper,
pioneer scout, of Piper's Crossroads.

CHAPTER XXIII

PETER FINDS A WAY

"What's all this?" asked Mr. Swiper, as the car came to a stop before
the rope.

With hand shaking and heart thumping, but borne up by a towering
resolve, Peter took his stand beside one of the front wheels. "The--the
road is--it's closed," he said, his voice trembling. The hand which held
the knife stole below the shiny mud-guard and rested on the smooth,
unyielding rubber. "The road is closed," he repeated.

Mr. Swiper climbed down out of the car, muttering an oath. He looked
apprehensively back along the road and being sure of no danger there he
crossed the rope and advanced a few yards along the road to inspect it.

Peter was in the grip of terrible fear, fe