CHAPTER X
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."