The Banner Boy Scouts on a Tour Part 3

Upon the silence of the Summer night sounded the startling detonation of the big bell in the square tower of the church.

The a.s.sembled scouts, arrested by this unexpected peal just as they were in the act of rus.h.i.+ng forth to try and capture those who had been spying on the meeting, stared at each other in mute astonishment and indignation.

Every one seemed to quickly understand just what it meant, nor were they long in finding their voices to denounce the outrage.

"It's a punk trick, fellows!" exclaimed Jack, his face filled with growing anger. "They want to force the church trustees to chase us out of our quarters here!"

"Yes," echoed Bobolink, trembling with eagerness to do something, he hardly knew just what, "it's a plot to throw us out in the cold, that's what! Talk to me about a mean, low-down trick--this takes the cake!"

"Let's surround the feller at the rope! Then we'll have something to show that it wasn't our fault the old bell jangled!" cried another member of the troop.

"On the jump, Foxes!" shouted William.

Immediately there was a grand rush. Some went through the door, aiming to gain the outer air, in the hope of cutting off any escaping enemy.

Others rushed towards the stairs, by means of which the vestibule of the old church could be reached, where dangled the rope that moved the bell.

Paul led this latter group. He was boiling with indignation over the trick that had been played, for it promised to put the orderly scouts in bad odor with the custodian of the building, who had been so kind to them.

The s.e.xton, whose name was Peter Ostertag, usually lighted the gymnasium for them, and then went over to his own cottage near by. It was his usual habit to return at about ten o'clock, when the meeting disbanded, in order to put out the lights, and close the building. Perhaps he might even then be on his way across lots.

What with the shouts of the excited scouts, rus.h.i.+ng hither and thither; together with some derisive laughter and cat calls from dark corners in the immediate vicinity, the scene certainly took on a lively turn.

The bell had ceased to toll, though there still came a ringing, metallic hum from up in the tower. Paul had s.n.a.t.c.hed up a lamp as he ran, and with this he was able to see when he reached the top of the stairs.

But the vestibule seemed to be empty. Paul rushed to the door, and to his surprise found it locked. Perhaps the s.e.xton had thought to secure this exit after him, when he left the main body of the church, an hour or two before. Then again, it might be, the plotters had been wise enough to place a barrier in the way of pursuit by turning the key, previously arranged on the outside of the lock.

"Hey! this way, Paul!" cried Bobolink, excitedly. "The door into the church is open! Bring the lamp! He's in here, I tell you! Listen to that, will you?"

There was a sound that drifted to their ears, and it came from inside the body of the church, too. Paul could easily imagine that the escaping bell-ringer must have stumbled while making his way across to some open window, and upset a small table that he remembered stood close to the wall.

He lost no time in carrying out the suggestion of Bobolink, who had already rushed into the dark building, fairly wild to make a capture.

Outside they could hear the boys calling to each other as they ran to and fro. The sharp, clear bark of a fox told that even in this period of excitement the scouts did not forget that they possessed a signal which could be used to tell friend from foe.

As soon as he gained a footing inside the big auditorium Paul held the lamp above his head. This was done, partly, better to send its rays around; and at the same time keep his own eyes from being dazzled by the glow.

"There he is!" shrilled Bobolink, suddenly; "over by the window on the left!"

Impetuous by nature, he made a dive in the direction indicated, only speedily to come to grief; for he tripped over some hair cus.h.i.+ons that may have been purposely thrown into the aisle, and measured his length on the floor.

Paul had himself discovered a moving figure over in the quarter mentioned. There could not be the slightest doubt about it being a boy, he believed, and in the hope of at least getting near enough to recognize the interloper, he hastened forward as fast as policy would permit.

With that lamp in his hand he did not want to follow the sad example of Bobolink for such an accident might result in setting fire to the building.

Now the figure began to put on more speed. Evidently the escaping party believed there was considerable danger of his being caught; and could guess what must follow if he fell into the hands of the aroused scouts.

Just in time did Paul discover that a piece of clothes line, probably taken from a yard close by, had been cleverly fastened across the aisle about six inches from the floor. It was undoubtedly intended to trip any who unguardedly came along that way.

"'Ware the rope, fellows!" he called back over his shoulder; for some of his comrades were pus.h.i.+ng hotly after him.

The warning came too late, for there was a crash as one scout made a dive; and from the various cries that immediately arose Paul judged that the balance of the detail had swarmed upon the fallen leader, just as though they had the pigskin oval down on the football field.

By now the escaping figure had reached the open window through which he must have entered some time previously, taking time to lay these various traps by means of which he expected to baffle pursuit.

Paul believed that such an ingenious artifice could have originated in no brain save that of Ted Slavin, or possibly his crony, Ward Kenwood.

Hence he was trying his best to discover something familiar about the figure now clambering up over the windowsill.

The balance of the scouts had managed to scramble to their feet after that jarring tumble; and were even then at his heels, grumbling and limping.

"It's Ted himself, that's what!" called Bobolink, at this exciting juncture.

The fellow turned his head while crouching in the window, just ready to drop outside. Paul could hardly keep from laughing at what he saw.

Possibly foreseeing some such predicament as this, and not wis.h.i.+ng to have his ident.i.ty known if it could be avoided, what had the daring bell-ringer done but a.s.sumed an old mask that might have been a part of a Valentine night's fun, or even a left-over from last Hallowe'en frolic.

At any rate it was a coal-black face that Paul saw, with a broad grin capable of no further expansion.

"Yah! yah! yah!" laughed the pretended darky, as he waved a hand mockingly in their direction, and then vanished from view.

Paul thought he recognized something familiar about the voice, though he could not be absolutely certain. And it was not the bully of Stanhope, Ted Slavin, that he had in mind, either.

There arose a chorus of bitter cries of disappointment, showing how the scouts felt over the escape of the intruder who had played such a successful practical joke on the troop.

"He's skidooed!" exclaimed Bobolink, in disgust. "Wouldn't that just jar you some, fellows?"

"There goes William through the window after him! Bully boy, William!

Hope you get a grip on the sneak!" cried Nuthin, who was rubbing his right s.h.i.+n as though it had been barked when he sprawled over the rope.

"Say, perhaps the boys outside may get him!" gasped another scout, who must have had the breath squeezed out of his lungs when the balance of the eager squad fell over him heavily, making a cus.h.i.+on of his body.

"Only hope they do," grumbled Nuthin. "But say, what's that you've picked up, Paul? Looks mighty like a hat!"

"It is a hat, and fellows, I've got a pretty good notion I've seen it before," responded the scout leader, as he held the object aloft.

The others crowded around, every eye fastened on the article picked up by Paul just under the window that had afforded the fugitive a chance to escape.

"It's Ward's lid, as sure as you live!" declared Bobolink, immediately.

"That's what it is," observed another, with conviction in his tone; "ain't I had it in my hands more'n once at school? That was Ward in here, doing these stunts!"

"Well," added Paul, cautiously, "it looks that way; but how do we know?

We didn't see his face, you remember. It might be another fellow wearing his hat. This might satisfy the trustees that we didn't have anything to do with the ringing of the bell; but I'd like to have better proof, fellows."

"What's all that talking going on out there?" demanded Nuthin, who had seated himself, the better to get at his bruised s.h.i.+n, and ease the pain by rubbing.

Bobolink drew himself up into the window; and as he did so his hat also fell off.

"There," declared Paul, quickly, "you see just how it happened to the fellow with the black face; and he was in too big a hurry just then to drop down again, so he could get his hat."

"What's all the row about, Bobolink? Have they got the slippery c.o.o.n?"

asked Philip Towne, a member of the second patrol.