Part 17 (1/2)

”Then take that!” And the next instant Lew Flapp hit the barber a telling blow in the nose which made the blood spurt from that member.

Then Flapp dove for the door, pulled it open, and sped up the street with all speed.

”Oh, my nose! He has smashed it to jelly!” groaned the barber, as he rushed to the sink for some water.

Sam had been thrown against a barber chair so forcibly that for the moment the wind was knocked completely out of him. By the time he was able to stand up, Flapp was out of the building.

”We must catch him!” he cried. ”Come on!”

”Catch him yourself,” growled Lemuel Gregg, ”I ain't going to stand the risk of being killed. He's a reg'lar tiger, he is!” And he began to bathe his nose at the sink.

Lew Flapp was running towards the railroad, but as soon as he saw that Sam was on his track he made several turns, finally taking to a side road which led to the Oak Run Cemetery. Here he saw there were numerous bushes and cedar trees, and thought he could hide or double on his trail without discovery.

But he forgot one thing--that Sam was a splendid runner and good of wind as well as limb. Try his best, he could not shake the youngest Rover off.

”The fool!” muttered the bully to himself. ”Why don't he give it up?”

Flapp looked about him for a club, but none was at hand. Then he picked up a stone and taking aim, hurled it at Sam. The missile struck the youngest Rover in the shoulder, causing considerable pain.

”I reckon two can play at that game,” murmured Sam, and he too caught up a stone and launched it forth. It landed in the middle of Lew Flapp's back and caused the bully to utter a loud cry of anguish.

”Stop, Flapp! I am bound to catch you sooner or later!” cried Sam.

”You come closer and I'll fix you!” growled the bully. ”I'll hammer the life out of you!”

”You've got to spell able first,” answered Sam.

The cemetery gained, Lew Flapp ran along one of the paths leading to the rear. Along this path were a number of good-sized sticks. He picked up one of these, and a few seconds later Sam did likewise.

Near the rear of the cemetery was a new receiving vault, which had just been donated to the cemetery a.s.sociation by the widow of a rich stockholder who had died the year before. The vault was of stone, with a heavy iron door that shut with a catch and a lock.

Making a turn that hid him from Sam's view for the moment, Lew Flapp espied the vault, standing with the door partly open.

”He won't look for me in there,” reasoned the bully, and slipped into the place with all possible alacrity. Once inside, he crouched in a dark corner behind the door and waited.

Sam, making the turn at just the right instant, saw Flapp disappearing into the vault. Without stopping he ran forward and closed the iron door, allowing the heavy catch to slip into place.

”Now, Lew Flapp, I guess I've got you!” he called out, after he was certain the door was secure.

To this the bully made no answer, but it is more than likely his heart sank within him.

”Do you hear me, Flapp? You needn't pretend you are not in there, for I saw you go in.”

Still Lew Flapp made no answer.

”Do you want me to go away and leave you locked in the vault?”

continued Sam. ”It would be a beautiful place in which to die of starvation.”