style="font-size:15px;"> Before he could say anything more, there arose a series of loud "k-r-e-e-es" from the direction where the patrol leader had gone a minute or two before.
"That's Rob!" cried Tubby, all in a tremor at the thought of new developments coming on the carpet.
"And he wants us to come along!" added Andy. "Listen! There's somebody else calling out, too, and it's a gruff voice, boys. I wonder, now, if Rob's cornered the other runaway in a tree, too. Let's hurry on and see!"
They were soon all in motion, leaving the wounded man alone by the little fire, since in all probability he would never dream of attempting further flight. And Merritt did not feel like being cheated out of his share of the fun in order to stand by and watch one who was really the prisoner of the Chief.
They had little difficulty in knowing which way to move, for the racket still kept up ahead. It was found to be pretty hard work pushing through all that dense mass of ground vines, bushes, and closely growing dwarf oaks, whose branches caught Tubby several times and almost choked him.
Once he did actually find himself gripped by the throat by one of these lower limbs, and lifted off his feet for the space of three seconds; so that ever afterward Tubby was fond of saying that he knew from actual experience just how Absalom must have felt when he was caught by his long hair and left hanging in a tree.
"Rob, oh, Rob, where are you?" called Andy, as they drew nearer to the strange sounds, which, besides spoken words, seemed to consist of the swishing of hurtling stones or clubs, and jeering laughter, all so queer that the scouts could make little or nothing of them.
For answer there was a flash, as Rob turned his torch toward them for just the space of a second; and at the same time he was heard calling close at hand:
"Here I am, just ahead of you, boys! Better look out or you'll get hit!"
"But what in the wide world is going on, Rob?" demanded Merritt, as he heard some object strike with a heavy thud among the bushes not two feet away from him.
"I'll show you what it means!" laughed Rob, who it turned out was hiding back of a fairly large tree-trunk not five feet away. As he spoke he sent the white light of his torch straight ahead once more.
What they saw astonished them. A moving figure caught their attention, and no explanation was needed to tell the boys that this must be the shorter one of the precious pair of rogues who had broken jail, and given the authorities of Suffolk and adjoining counties such a scare.
He seemed to be groping all around him, as though trying to find more stones or fragments of broken limbs with which to bombard the patrol leader, whose presence was betrayed by the flash of his torch.
"What's he doing there; and why does he lean over like that?" called out Tubby, at the same time dodging behind a convenient tree, when he saw the man proceed to hurl a stone in their direction, following it up with a stream of hard words that told how furious he felt.
"Why, the fact is," said Rob, still laughing, as though he considered it a good joke on the fugitive, "that he got himself in the neatest trap you ever saw. In the dark and his hurry he pushed his foot into some sort of frog made of the roots of a bush, and after that got so twisted up in the vines that if he was promised a thousand dollars for doing it, he just couldn't break away. I flashed the light on him, you see, where he was lying low, hoping we'd clear out and let him get away; and he was so mad he began to fire everything he could lay hands on at me. There's your second man, Chief. I'll hand over the job of taking him to you."
"Well, I wouldn't be afraid to wager you could do it as clever as the next one if it was up to you, son!" remarked the big officer, as he started toward the spot where the baffled fugitive crouched, looking about as furious and ugly as any one could who had been tripped up in this neat manner by ill fortune.
Of course the fellow saw that the game was up. He did not dare to offer any resistance when the Chief walked up to him and ordered him to hold out his hands. And when there came a sharp "click" that made Tubby wince, they knew that the fugitive from justice had been retaken, and that he stood a fair chance to face a judge and jury before many days.
It required considerable labor to get him free from the trap that Nature had so cruelly sprung upon him, but in the end this was accomplished; and upon returning to where the little fire still burned, they found the wounded man lying there on the ground, as comfortably as he could, and awaiting them with an expectant look on his face.
CHAPTER VII.
TUBBY REFUSES TO FORGET
"Too bad they got you, too, Joe!" said the wounded man; and yet there was something like satisfaction on his face, along with the grin he gave; because misery likes company, and if his companion had managed to escape it would have seemed doubly hard for him to be retaken, and badly hurt at that.
"This man isn't able to walk all the way back to the road, Chief," Rob went on to say, indicating the tall fellow, who lay there with his leg bound up the best Merritt could do with so little at hand to aid him.
"I reckon, son," returned the big officer, so pleased with the success that had come to him that he was ready to grant almost any favor these scouts asked, "we'll just have to carry him, then."
"And that would hurt him almost as much as limping along," Rob continued; "so if you hold up for a little bit, we'll try and fix a stretcher that ought to answer; though it's going to be a mighty poor sort of thing, without even a camp hatchet to cut poles with. Get busy with me, boys, and show the Chief what you know."
Now this was one of the things in which all the Eagles had been thoroughly drilled. They knew how to go to work to make a comfortable stretcher on which an injured person might be carried for miles. But just as the patrol leader said, not having a hatchet handy was likely to prove something of a handicap. However, scouts always try to do the best they can, no matter what difficulties they run up against, and Merritt was the first to start scurrying around, looking for stout poles that would serve for the sides and handles of the stretcher.
Once more did those three police officers stand and watch what the boys were doing with both wonder and interest written on their faces. Why, they had never dreamed that half-grown lads could be so resourceful; and even after a number of fairly straight poles had been collected, calculated to bear easily the weight of the injured man, none of the men could guess just how these were to be utilized, or fastened together.
Judge of their astonishment, then, when they saw the boys make another little side hunt and come back with strands of pliable vines that could be twisted about the poles, fastening them together, each live vine stronger three times over than a cord of the same size would have been.
Each scout took pride in being able to render his share of the work; and Rob, on his part, was filled with satisfaction to find how well things began to shape themselves under the nimble fingers of his chums and himself.
As the rude but effective stretcher began to assume its desired form, the Chief gave each of his men a nod and a wink, as though calling their attention to the clever way in which these ready lads met an emergency by "being prepared"; letting them understand, also, that a useful lesson might be drawn from the happening.
Even the two captured rogues manifested considerable interest in what was going on, the wounded fellow because he had good reason to be thankful for receiving so much consideration, and the shorter rascal because he had never been given a chance to see scouts work before.
"There's your stretcher, Chief," said Rob, when less than ten minutes had slipped by, "and it's going to answer all right, I think."
