CHAPTER VIII.

THE VALUE OF STRATEGY.

No wonder that the four scouts were staring with all their might. Surely it was enough to make any one believe he had the nightmare to see two figures in strangely striped clothes, very like the barred sides of the zebra in the circus, feverishly picking up the articles that had been scattered around when the basket of the balloon struck the ground.

“Gee whiz! what is it?” gasped Billy, as motionless as a marble statue in his surprise.

“The clothes—just like I saw on the convicts, when I was visiting my aunt over in the next county!” Bud said faintly; but his words gave them all a distinct clue, and they realized that it was not a bad dream, after all.

“That’s what they are, escaped convicts!” declared Hugh, emphatically.

“But they’re hooking all the professor’s things, Hugh!” Billy found voice to add. “Are we going to stand for that?”

“Not for a minute!” responded the leader quickly. “Hunt a club, each one of you!” he ordered. “Arthur, drop that camera, and lend a hand. We may have to fight for it yet, there’s no telling.”

Apparently Arthur had added another triumph to his already swelling list of wonderful pictures, if that happy grin on his face went for anything. But all the same, he did carefully lay his precious camera down close beside the wounded man, and then look around for a suitable stick that would come under the name of club.

When Hugh had seen that all of them had managed to find some sort of a weapon, he gave the word to move forward. The two queer figures in the faded striped garments were still bending this way and that, apparently so eager not to miss a single object of value from the overturned balloon basket that they were paying little attention to what was passing close by.

No doubt they had sized the situation up before showing themselves, and figured that all they had to contend with were a badly hurt aeronaut and a pack of half-grown lads, who would not dare come to hand-grips with so desperate a pair as themselves.

“Surround them, boys!” Hugh said the last thing. “Billy, you and Bud take to the right, and we’ll hold the left flank. If you have to hit, do it with a vim, remember!”

Of course the two men would never have lingered as long as they did had they suspected that they were in any danger; but the greed for gain was strong upon them; and no doubt they believed they might be able to sell those instruments somewhere and somehow, so as to get money with which to buy clothes that would conceal the fact that they were escaped jailbirds.

On this account, then, the boys were actually able to form a square about them before either of the men noticed what was happening. The wounded aeronaut was trying the best he could to get upon his feet, though what he could do to help, in his present weakened condition, was a mystery.

One of the criminals, catching sight of Billy with his big bludgeon, gave the alarm. Their arms were filled with all sorts of things, for it seemed a sin to neglect a golden opportunity that had come down to them, as it were, from the sky. And while they looked ready to clear out, at the same time they declined to throw down as much as a pair of field glasses.

Every boy started to circulate his club with as fierce an air as he could muster. Perhaps this was done as a method of alarming the convicts, and showing them what they must expect if rash enough to come too near, or if they neglected to fling away what they were carrying off. Then again it may have been that the scouts were getting their muscles into full play; just as a heavy home-run hitter likes to swing two bats around before stepping up to the rubber.

“Drop all that stuff, do you hear?” demanded Hugh as savagely as possible.

“Aw! clear out with you!” snarled one of the men. He was shorter than his companion, and had a gorilla-like face that just then looked to Arthur as though he could gnaw a file, it was so lined with a scowl.

“Yes, clear the track, kids, if you don’t want to get hurted bad!” added the other, who was not so hard looking a specimen.

Perhaps they expected that this would be enough. If so they were doomed to disappointment, because not a boy moved from his tracks. The men hardly knew which way to turn, for whether they faced west, east, north or south there was a whizzing stick cutting all sorts of wonderful figures in the air, and seeming to promise pretty tough treatment, should they try to rush the possessor.

Hugh was wise enough to realize that, given a little time, the two desperate men would manage to outwit himself and comrades. They might have to take a few savage blows, but then no doubt they were quite used to such trifling methods of punishment, after having been in the penitentiary for some time. A furious rush would carry the boys off their feet, and before they could be stopped, doubtless the convicts would be stretching their legs at a tremendous pace, making their escape.

Hugh had a sudden inspiration. He fancied that if there was one thing these bad men had reason to be afraid of it was recapture; because, should that happen, they must expect severe punishment at the hands of the wardens, to whom they had given so much trouble. Why not make out that they, the scouts, were in league with those same officials in blue, whose brass buttons would set the hearts of their former charges in a flutter of fear? He decided it was an idea worth trying.

“Hold them where they are, boys, till the wardens can get here!” the patrol leader called out just as loud as he could; and then, to the astonishment of his comrades, Hugh began to make violent gestures in a certain direction that might mean only one thing, and this, that some persons unseen were being urged to hurry.

That gave the men the first scare they had felt. Up to then, they had considered that they only had to deal with a pack of school-boys, dressed in khaki and campaign hats and leggings, to imitate the National Guard. Now it really began to look as though these Boy Scouts might have come up to this part of the country to help the wardens find the missing convicts; because in these latter days patrols are being found useful in many fields of endeavor.

All the same, they did hate to drop any of that plunder, which might mean so much to them later on if they found a chance to dispose of it. Hugh’s clever stratagem had certainly given them a fright; but it might have failed of its purpose, for the men who wore the striped suits were preparing to hurl themselves against the surrounding line, had not a new actor appeared on the scene.

This was the wounded aeronaut. Weak as he appeared to be, he looked very determined just at that moment. No doubt he did not much fancy seeing a pair of jailbirds run off with all his aerial possessions.

But what astonished Hugh most of all was the fact that the professor, as they had somehow come to call the man who had fallen from aloft, held something in his uninjured right hand which he must have extracted from an inner pocket. It did not make much of a showing, but the sun glinted from the blued steel of a short barrel that could only belong to an automatic, quick-firing weapon.

A daring aeronaut who takes his life in his hand and never knows where he may alight, no doubt learns to put himself in a position so that he can defend himself against possible dangers. And while the boys had been holding up the two thieves, he was, with more or less agony, no doubt, extracting this little “persuader” from its hiding-place and advancing toward the scene of action.

Here was something well calculated to awe the two convicts. They might feel more or less contempt for a few boys, even if armed with wicked-looking cudgels of various shapes and patterns; but the owner of the property they were trying to carry off was another matter, especially when backed up with a dangerous up-to-date weapon of which they, if anybody, should know the value.

“Drop everything you’ve picked up there and clear out, before I open fire on you!” was what the nervy professor told them. And if his voice lacked power on account of what he had recently passed through, surely the fire flashing from his eyes must have told the two miserable men that he was accustomed to having his words obeyed.

Hugh thought he saw a chance to put in a clinching argument just then.

“And be quick about it, too, if you hope to get out of sight before the wardens come up,” he urged, just as though his boyish heart had begun to pity the condition of the hunted wretches. He was looking again and again in the same direction, so that Arthur, yes, and both of the other scouts, actually began to wonder if this was, after all, only a clever piece of acting on his part, or if he really glimpsed several husky fellows in the uniform of prison guards coming on the run.

The men saw that their little game was up. Circumstances had turned out unfavorable to their plan for securing all that valuable plunder, and surely to remain at liberty was the most desirable thing they could now hope for.

First one man flung down something he held, half angrily.

“Easy there!” cried the aeronaut, who was covering them all the while. “Don’t you try to smash what the fall of the balloon spared, or I’ll hold you here prisoners and hand you over to the wardens when they come up. Put the rest down gently; do you hear me?”

They hastened to drop everything they held; and then, fearful lest he might be tempted to carry out his terrible threat, they started on the full run,—“scooted like scared rabbits,” Billy said later. A quick “click” announced that Arthur had scored again with his camera, hastily secured while the runners were yet in full sight.