The Banner Boy Scouts on a Tour Part 8

He also noted the lay of the land near the church. This was familiar to him, as he had played around this spot, off and on, for years. Paul knew just where every tree reared its leafy branches, and could easily in his mind plan a mode of approaching the rear of the building without once leaving the shelter of the shadows.

So they stalked along, and were soon hugging the stone walls. Thus far all seemed quiet and peaceful. If any of the Slavin crowd were in the near vicinity they must be keeping under cover.

A pinch on his arm told Paul that Jack, with his keen eyes, had discovered something he deemed suspicious.

"Where?" he managed faintly to whisper in the ear of his chum.

"Ahead, by the sun dial," came in reply.

Paul remembered that something had happened to the old fas.h.i.+oned sun-dial that used to stand in the cemetery connected with the church; and that it had been placed up against the wall of the building. He knew, because he had once fallen over it in the darkness.

Looking closely he could just make out some object seemingly perched on the stone that offered a seat to the weary one.

It might be Bobolink, and then again there was always a possibility that the figure would prove to be that of an enemy on the watch.

Paul had inst.i.tuted a system of signals whereby two scouts of the Stanhope troop could communicate, should they happen to draw near one another in the dark, and wish to unite forces.

Accordingly he now took a little piece of wood out of his pocket, also a steel nail, and with the latter tapped several times upon the bit of veneering. Immediately they saw the sitting boy begin to fumble, as though he might be getting something out of his pocket. Then came an answering series of staccato taps, soft yet clear.

"O. K."

"Number Three," whispered Paul, gently.

"I'm your candy!" came the reply, as the figure stood up at attention.

"Anything doing around here?" asked Jack, cautiously as they joined forces.

"Haven't seen a blessed thing but a young rabbit, that came nosing around. Guess that swift bunch hasn't showed up yet," returned the sentry.

"It's just as well," remarked Paul; "and please talk in whispers. Here's the door, so just wait till I unlock it."

A minute later and they found themselves inside the bas.e.m.e.nt of the church, which was used as a gymnasium for the boys; there being no Y. M. C. A. in the town.

"Do we get a light?" asked Bobolink, as he stared into the darkness.

"Better not," advised Paul, "for that would give the whole thing away.

The whole stack of things is piled up in the center, so we needn't tumble over it. And William, you know where to put your hand on those clubs, don't you?"

"That's a cinch," chuckled the other, quickly. "You fellows just hang out here, and let me get busy. Oh! what a chance it looks like to try my little game of tag. Talk to me about baseball! Why, it won't be in the same cla.s.s with what we'll do to the other fellows, if they give us half a chance! Oh! me, oh! my! yum, yum!"

William came back presently, and handed each of his mates one of the padded clubs he had worked on so industriously, in the expectation that some fine day they might come in useful. Perhaps that hour had arrived; at least William had high hopes.

Paul, meanwhile, had secured some blankets from the pile, and each of them made as comfortable a bed as was possible in the darkness.

"Nothing like getting used to bunking on the hard floor?" grunted Bobolink, after he had fussed around for fully ten minutes, complaining that the boards hurt his bones when he lay on his side.

"Now silence!" came from Paul, in a tone of authority; and after that no one dared to utter a single word in the way of conversation.

CHAPTER VII

"BE PREPARED"

"Paul!"

Jack's groping hand gripped the arm of his chum as he gave vent to this whisper.

"Yes," came the low reply close at hand, showing that Paul was awake, and alert.

"Did you hear it?" asked Jack, eagerly.

Bobolink was breathing heavily on his blankets, and it seemed as though he must have been the first one to get to sleep, after all his complaining about the hardness of his bed.

"Yes. Some one shook the door," answered the patrol leader, still whispering.

"That was what I thought. Shall I wake Bobolink and William?" asked Jack.

"Let me do it. If one of them gave a shout it would tell that we had a guard in here."

Paul, while saying this, started to crawl to where Number Three was enjoying a nap. He shook him gently, and when that failed to arouse Bobolink, the motion was increased.

"Hey! what are you----" but further sound was instantly cut off by Paul's clapping his hand over Bobolink's mouth.

"Keep still! They're at the door right now!" he breathed into the ear of the struggling one.

That seemed to tell Bobolink what it all meant. No doubt his first impression had been that the enemy had stolen a march on them, and meant to make them prisoners in their own quarters.

He ceased to squirm, and encouraged by this Paul by degrees removed his m.u.f.fling hand, so that Bobolink could breathe freely again.

The sounds had commenced once more. William was also sitting up by now, and fairly quivering with eagerness, as he fondled the extra large club he had selected for his individual use.

Voices, too, reached their ears, as though the unknown parties without, finding themselves balked by the fact that the door was locked, were conferring as to how they might gain entrance.

"Maybe they've gone and made a duplicate key," suggested William, as he and the other three scouts put their heads close together.

No one thought it at all out of the question. They had run up against these energetic plotters so often in the past, that they were well acquainted with their ways; and nothing surprised them in connection with Ted Slavin's crowd.

"Perhaps we'd better move closer to the door, so as to be ready in case they do push in," Paul said, leading the way.

Creeping across the floor of the gymnasium, they hovered close to the entrance. All of them gripped their novel weapons of offense and defense with a grim determination to give a good account of themselves when the chance arrived.

As for William, he was fairly s.h.i.+vering with impatience. Several times he swished his club through the air, as though eager to test its qualities on an unlucky intruder; so that Paul had finally to warn him against such indiscreet action.

The voices without came more plainly now. Evidently the plotters were disputing as to their best course under the circ.u.mstances, some being for one thing, and the balance for another.

"Oh! rats!" came a voice that Paul easily recognized as belonging to Ted Slavin himself; "Who's afraid? Go get the old gravestone, boys, and we'll ram her through the door like soup. It's only a weak door anyhow."