Part 8 (1/2)

CHASING THE TRAMPS

The Rushton boys and their chums crouched low in the shadow of the fence, and took a careful look around. All of them knew the violent temper of Mr. Sam Perkins, and none of them wanted to make the acquaintance of that famous dog whip he had recently bought at the village store, loudly declaring at the same time the use he expected to make of it.

But five sharp pairs of eyes could see nothing to cause alarm. A sleepy silence brooded over the orchard, and it looked as though Sam must be busy at some other part of his extensive farm.

”I guess it's all right,” said Fred, in a cautious whisper.

”Cricky, look at those beauties!” exclaimed Jack Youmans, as he pounced upon a luscious peach that lay within a foot of him.

The others quickly followed his example, and there was soon no sound except the munching of jaws, as they satisfied their first hunger for the delicious fruit.

There was no need to pluck them from the trees, as there were plenty lying on the ground. And since these were doomed to rot in time, the consciences of the boys did not disturb them much. Still, they knew they were trespa.s.sing, and at first they kept a keen lookout. Nothing happened, however, and gradually their caution relaxed, and they strayed farther and farther from the road into the heart of the orchard.

Suddenly, a fierce barking made them jump and sent their hearts into their throats. They looked behind them, and saw a big dog rus.h.i.+ng toward them. He was between them and the fence, and shut off escape in that direction.

”It's Sam's dog, Tiger!” e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Bob, his face growing pale.

”Quick, this way!” cried Fred, grasping the situation at a glance.

”Let's make for the barn. It's our only chance.”

They were not more than two hundred feet from a big red barn, which had two entrances, one of which faced them. The one at the further end was closed, but the one to which the boys were nearer was open.

They ran with all their might, a wholesome fear lending wings to their feet. There were many stories abroad about the ferocity of Tiger, whose name seemed to fit his nature. Only a week before, he had taken a piece out of a man's leg, and Sam Perkins had more than once been in danger of lawsuits on account of the dog's savage disposition. But the farmer was ugly himself, and, instead of trying to curb the brute, seemed to glory in its reputation.

”I ain't a-goin' to muzzle him,” he would say, when people complained that the dog was dangerous. ”All any one has to do is to keep off my grounds, and he won't get hurt.”

The dog was gaining at every jump, but the boys had a good start, and the distance to the barn was short. They covered it in fast time, and almost fell inside the door. Fred and Bob had just time to swing it shut and slip the bar in place, when Tiger hurled himself against it.

It was a close call, and for a minute or two they lay there, panting and unable to speak.

The hay scattered on the floor had deadened the sound of their footsteps, as they piled in, and, in the silence of the big barn, the only sound came from their own gaspings for breath.

”Oh!” Jim was beginning, when Fred lifted his hand and put his finger on his lips as a signal to keep still.

”S-sh,” he whispered. ”I thought I heard some one speaking over there,”

and he pointed to a distant corner of the barn where fodder for the cattle was stored.

”Who can it be?” whispered Teddy in return. ”Do you think it can be Sam?

If it is, we're done for.”

”No, it isn't Sam,” was Fred's guarded reply. ”If it were, he'd come to see what Tiger's barking about. Let's creep over there and take a look.”

As silently as Indians, the boys wormed their way across the floor. The only light came from the cracks in the side of the barn, and they had to use great care not to b.u.mp into anything that might betray their presence.

Suddenly, Fred, who was leading, stopped.

”Wait,” he breathed. ”I just got a look at them. There are two of them there, and they look to me like tramps. Stay here a minute.”