AN EVENTFUL WALK
To the three boys, this cry was not surprising. Indeed, they had been
expecting an attack ever since Buttons had espied the six figures
sneaking through the shadows, and their only amazement was that they
had been allowed to escort the girls and Bronson to their homes,
without interference.
"Quick, link arms! Lower your heads, and we'll dash through them!"
whispered Sandow. "Use your elbows, like you do in football."
"Strike hard and low," added Buttons. "They mean business--or they
wouldn't have waited till we got the girls home."
Instinctively, each boy squared his shoulders at this voicing of the
thoughts that had been uppermost in their minds, ever since they
learned they were being followed.
"That's certain enough or there wouldn't be six of them to only three
of us," returned Sandow. "Crouch down, and we may be able to upset
'em."
"I say charge 'em," breathed Fred. "Bart'll expect us to back up
against the fence. So if we run hard, we can break through them."
That the rich bully was the leader of their pursuers, neither Sandow
nor Buttons doubted. But, knowing his disposition, they feared the
methods he might adopt under cover of darkness, realizing the attack
would centre on Fred.
Accordingly, as the fair-haired boy made his suggestion of charging,
Sandow whispered:
"Better make a wedge. You run in the lead, Cotton-Top, and Buttons and
I will shove you along."
To decide upon their line of action took the boys less time than it
does to describe it, and no sooner had the suggestion of the wedge been
made than the trio charged.
This move surprised Bart, for he it was. So eager was he to fall upon
his rival, that, in his excitement, his voice, when he gave the word
of the boys' approach, had been louder than he realized. Moreover, his
plan of attack, thoroughly in keeping with his nature, had been to fall
upon Fred and his companions from the rear.
In consequence, when he heard the thudding of their footsteps, the
bully lost his head.
"Out at them! Get Fred!" he snarled, leaping from his hiding place onto
the sidewalk, as he spoke.
Either because they had other ideas of how they should proceed, or
because the suddenness of their intended victims' action paralyzed
them, Bart's followers did not immediately obey.
And their delay was their leader's undoing.
With great force, Fred, backed by Buttons and Sandow, struck the lone
boy on the sidewalk, bowling him over as though he were a tenpin.
"There's no one else ahead," exclaimed Fred. "Guess we were too quick
for 'em. No use running any more."
The impetus of his companions was such, however, that though the boy at
the head of the wedge stopped running, as he spoke, the others carried
him along for several yards.
"That was too easy," grunted Buttons, in evident disappointment.
"Never mind, I reckon we shook Bart up some," chuckled Sandow. "Let's
keep going while we have the chance."
"What, run away from Bart Montgomery?" snorted Fred.
"Tut, tut! There's discretion in valor, Cotton-Top. Just take my advice
and get home as fast as you can."
"But I'm not going to run," protested Fred.
"Sure not. We'll just go up Main Street. The lights are still on
and Bart won't try any funny business on a street where he can be
recognized."
As in many other country towns, only the principal street of Baxter was
provided with street lamps and--because of the hard-headed economy of
the "Town Fathers" even these lamps were only lighted when the night
was dark.
"Sandow is right," agreed Buttons, after a moment's reflection.
"But it looks as though I were afraid," protested Fred.
"Fiddlesticks! You don't need to prove your courage," returned Sandow.
"Everybody in school admits that. So come along and go the way we want
you to."
With evident reluctance, Fred finally yielded, and the trio turned
their steps toward Main Street, which they reached without further
sight or sound of Bart and his companions.
The route of the three chums took them past the building of the First
National Bank.
Dismissing the unsuccessful attack by tacit understanding, the boys
were discussing the formation of the Second Form football team, when
Fred chanced to glance toward the bank building.
"Look there, by the second window! Can you see any one?" he asked
excitedly.
Pausing in their tracks, Buttons and Sandow peered in the direction
indicated.
"There's some one sneaking along the side, I think," whispered the
latter.
"Probably Bart and his crowd," suggested Buttons.
"Maybe, but I doubt it," returned the leader of the First Form.
"You don't suppose it is anyone trying to break into the bank, do you?"
queried Fred.
"I don't believe so," rejoined Sandow. "If they were, they'd be more
likely to work at the back of the building than on the side. However,
we'll stay here and watch a few minutes."
To this proposal the other boys agreed readily.
"Keep on talking, just as though we hadn't seen anybody," advised the
oldest of the trio. And though his companions obeyed, they continued to
keep a sharp watch on the bank building.
"They've seen us," exclaimed Buttons suddenly. "Look, they're going
back! Can't you see them, crouching down? I tell you, there's something
wrong!"
But just as the boy finished voicing his suspicion the flare of a match
flickered, revealing two men, searching the ground on their hands and
knees.
"Whoever it is has lost something," murmured Fred.
"But who are they?" demanded Buttons. "It may be only a bluff to throw
us off the track, now they realize they've been discovered."
"My eye! but you talk just like a story book detective," laughed
Sandow. "What do you want us to do, charge 'em, and cry 'hands up'?"
"Don't be a fool----" began Buttons, in angry retort, when a second
match flared, the light from which enabled the boys to see the faces of
the two men.
As they recognized them, the three chums looked at one another in
amazement.
"It's Mr. Montgomery and Mr. Gibbs!" exclaimed Fred, more to himself
than to his companions.
"That's who it is," agreed Sandow. "You'd have got us into a pretty
mess, if we'd given an alarm, wouldn't you, Buttons?"
"But what are they doing at the bank at this time of night?" demanded
the latter.
"Go ask them, if you're so mighty anxious to know--though I reckon Mr.
Montgomery has the right to go into the bank, of which he is president,
any time he wishes."
"That's just what he hasn't," returned Buttons. "It was only the other
day I heard father say no one should be allowed in the bank, from the
time the clerks leave at night, till they arrive the next morning."
"Well, I shouldn't advise you to repeat that to Mr. Montgomery," said
the leader of the Firsts. "Now we've found out no one is trying to rob
the bank, let's be going home."
With the resumption of their walk, Buttons and Sandow took up the
matter of the Seconds' football team. Repeatedly they asked Fred's
opinion or advice, but his answers showed that his mind was far away.
"I say, come back to earth. What are you dreaming about, anyway?"
demanded his Form mate, in disgust, as Fred replied to an important
question in regard to the make-up of the team with an "I don't know."
"I was thinking about Char--I mean I wish you two would remember about
what we saw at the bank and that this is the night of September 17,"
hastily corrected the boy.
"Sure, we'll remember," declared his chums.
"Thank you."
"But why?" persisted Buttons.
"I'll tell you sometime. Hello, I'm home. Didn't know we were so near.
Much obliged for your help. Good-night--and don't forget."