CHAPTER XXVIII

THE PURSUIT

Ned, being the best swimmer, was first ashore. The others soon joined him. They could dimly make out the approaching boat in which were several men.

"Which way?" asked Fenn.

"No way at all," replied Bart. "To the trees! If we take a step they'll hear us, and besides, we don't know any more than the man in the moon which way to go. Hide in a tree until they give up the chase."

The shore was lined with trees. It wasn't much fun climbing up barefooted, and with thin clothes on, but the boys managed it, and soon were in a big willow, the thick leaves of which afforded a good screen.

They had no sooner perched themselves on limbs, well hidden by the foliage, than the sound of the boat's keel grating on the gravelly shore was heard. Then came the captain's voice.

"Scatter now and hunt for 'em. They can't have gone far! We were after 'em too quick! But be careful men, I don't want those boys hurt. Be easy, remember!"

"That's queer," thought Ned. "In fact this whole business is queer."

The noise the men made as they crashed through the underbrush came plainly to the ears of the boys. They could see the gleam of lanterns the searchers carried, as they ran to and fro. But the tree proved a happy thought. None of the men imagined the boys were in it, and some of the pursuers even stood beneath the willow and voiced their remarks of disappointment.

For ten or fifteen minutes the search was kept up in the vicinity of where the boat had landed. The men made a circle about the place looking for the boys but did not find them. The chums, cramped from clinging to the branches, dared not move for fear of rustling the leaves, and disclosing their presence. Finally the searchers gathered about the boat, close to the tree.

"Guess they gave us the slip," remarked the captain. "Smart lads those. Well, men, might as well go back. Get the boat ready." The men moved off, Captain Needham remaining beneath the tree a moment longer. The boys heard him murmur: "The King of Paprica will not like this. I must get word to him at once."

Then he moved away. A little later the sound of the boat being hoisted to the barge could be heard.

"Can't we get down now?" whispered Fenn. "I'm all stiff and cold."

"Better wait awhile," advised Bart. "They may have left some one on watch."

It was weary waiting but the boys did not complain. It was so still they could hear the men in the small boat boarding the barge. Then there came the sound of the big craft getting underway. Bart peered out through the leaves. He could just make out the steamer.

"They've turned around! They're heading down stream!" he said in an excited whisper. "I guess we're safe now. Come on, boys!"

He scrambled down, followed by the others.

From the shore they could see the lights of the barge disappearing around a bend in the river.

"Must be something very queer in this, when our escape makes them turn around and go back," spoke Bart.

"Looks as if we were surely mixed up in that mystery," came from Frank. "Wish we knew how."

"We'll soon know," replied Bart. "This thing will have to end in a little while. Now, the question is, what are we going to do?"

"Let's look for a place to stay the rest of the night," counseled Frank.

"All right, only I don't feel much like tramping through the woods and fields in the dark and barefooted," objected Fenn. "Why not stay here until it's light enough to see where we are going?"

After talking it over they decided this was the best plan. It was too risky tramping about in an unknown locality, especially without some protection for their feet. Bart walked back away from the river. Then he called to his chums:

"Here's a hay field, fellows. It's been cut but hasn't been cocked up yet. Come on, we'll make a pile of it and crawl in to get warm."

It was a good suggestion. The half-cured grass made a warm nest for the thinly clad boys, and they huddled down together in a big mound of the fragrant hay, pulling it over themselves until they were hidden from sight, leaving only a little hole to breathe through. It was so warm and comfortable that they speedily fell asleep.

The sun was shining when they awakened. Bart sprang up, scattering the hay all about, and his companions followed.

"Oh, for a bit of breakfast!" Fenn remarked.

"'So say we all of us,'" chanted Bart.

"There's a chance of it!" exclaimed Ned.

"What?"

"Breakfast!" and he pointed to a little village about half a mile away.

"Hurrah! We're in luck!" cried Ned. "Now for a meal and a chance to send word home!"

"We can't go looking this way!" exclaimed Fenn. "Look at our clothes!"

"You mean don't look at 'em," corrected Bart. "We'll hang a sign out; 'We have better ones at home.' That will satisfy any one. As for me I'd go there and ask for a bite if I only had my swimming togs on, and these are a heap-sight more respectable than those. Here goes!"

He strode forward, pulling wisps of hay from his hair. The others followed. From the field they emerged into a country road that led to the village. They were almost at the outskirts of the hamlet, where several houses were grouped together when a boy came from one out into the highway, carrying a pail of milk.

"That looks good!" exclaimed Bart. "Hi, kid," he called, "sell us a drink of milk, will you?"

The boy halted. He gazed at the four strange figures approaching; figures clad in ragged overalls and jumpers; bare-footed figures, with bits of hay clinging to them. Then the boy dropped his pail of milk spilling it all over and with a yell of: "Pop! Pop! Here they be!" he dashed back into the house.

The next moment three men came from the house. They carried clubs in their hands, and one had a gun.

"Here they are!" called one, as the three advanced on the run toward the boys.

"Polite way to receive guests," commented Bart.

As he spoke there came hurrying from houses adjoining that where the boy lived who gave the alarm, a number of men and youths. All of them had clubs or some sort of weapon.

"They seem to be after us!" cried Fenn.

"So they are!" admitted Bart. "I'll bet Captain Needham lied about us and put them on our track. He probably sent some message last night."

"We'd better run," counseled Frank, and at that the boys took to their heels.

The pursuit was on in earnest. The crowd behind kept increasing as men and youths from houses further back on the road joined it.

"Catch 'em! Stop 'em! Head 'em off!" were the cries that reached the boys. But they kept on at their best speed. They had the advantage of a good start, and were not hampered with heavy clothing and shoes. The road was deep in dust and was not hard on their unprotected feet.

"They'll never catch us!" exclaimed Bart. "But what in the world do they want with us?"

"Don't talk! Run!" came from Fenn.

It began to look as though the boys would get away. The road stretched invitingly before them, and, though the number of their pursuers was increasing they had not cut down the lads' lead much. But fortune does not always favor the brave. As the chums went around a curve they saw in front of them a load of hay, overturned on the highway. It blocked the whole width of the road, save for a strip of sward on either side.

"Go around it!" cried Ned.

But when they came up they found the passage on both sides was so thick with big Canadian thistles, as to daunt even the bravest barefooted person, particularly if he had not been used to going without his shoes. They gingerly tried the passage on either side but had to turn back. The pursuers gave a shout and came on faster than before.

"Over the hay!" sung out Ned.

He made a running jump to scramble up the small hill of dried grass. The others followed. From the other side there suddenly appeared the farmer who owned it. He had been trying to fix his wagon. He saw the boys attempting to climb over the load, and noted the crowd in pursuit.

"No, you don't!" he yelled, making a grab for Fenn and Bart, who were in the rear. He seized them by their loose clothing. As the two boys felt themselves being pulled back they instinctively grabbed at Ned and Frank. All four fell in a heap on the highway at the bottom of the hay pile. An instant later the crowd was upon them and the boys were grabbed by half a dozen hands.

"We've got 'em!" exclaimed one gray-bearded man, with a big tin star on his coat. "We'll git th' reward. Great luck!"

"What right have you got to chase us?" demanded Bart.

"Best right in the world," replied the constable.

"What have we done?" asked Frank.

"Broke jail, that's what ye done."

"Broke jail! We never were in jail!"

"What? Ain't ye th' two men who escaped from Blissville jail last night?" demanded the constable.

"No!" fairly shouted Bart. "Can't you count? There are four of us and mere boys, not men. The only place we broke from was the hold of the barge where they were keeping us prisoners, after we fell from the balloon!"

"Balloon!" exclaimed another man, coming forward from the crowd. "Are you th' boys from Darewell th' alarm has been sent out for? Went up in a balloon that broke away?"

"That's who we are," replied Fenn.

"By Heck! men, we've got th' wrong ones!" cried the man who had last spoken. "These are the balloon boys! It was two men, not four boys, who broke jail! We've made a mistake!"

"What made ye run, if ye wasn't guilty?" demanded the constable, rather incensed over his disappointment.

"Guess you'd run, Amos," put in the other man, "if ye saw this crowd after ye."