The scouts had been eagerly awaiting this motion with the hat on the part of the patrol leader. It acted on them about in the same way the bang of a starting pistol might with a string of nerve-strained sprinters, anxious to leap forward, with a prize in view to the first under the tape.
Many times before had they found themselves in just this same position, with Thad deciding the start. Giraffe, the fastest in the bunch, was crouched in his accustomed attitude, looking somewhat like a big, wiry cat getting ready to spring; while Bob White, Step Hen, Allan and Davy Jones each had assumed an attitude best suited to his particular method of starting.
At the same time all of them understood this was not going to be a race. They had been instructed to spread out a little, after the manner of an open fan, as they advanced. This was to give the tramp as little chance to escape as they possibly could.
Well, the hat, after being poised for a few preliminary seconds in mid-air, was suddenly swung downward with a violent dip. That meant in the plainest of language “Go!” and every fellow made a forward move.
Giraffe had been given one of the outer lines, since that meant he would have a little more ground to cover; and no one was better fitted for this than the lanky scout. Nature had built him for a runner from the ground up; he did not have a superfluous ounce of fat on him, but was all muscle, and, as Giraffe often proudly declared, his flesh was “as hard as nails.”
It was a pretty sight to see those five fellows in khaki begin to spread out in that systematic way, just as though each one might consider himself a part of a machine.
Thad had purposely taken the center, so that he could keep an eye on every part of the field. It is always considered the best thing for a captain on a baseball club to be posted somewhere in the diamond, preferably on third base, as that gives him a chance to watch the game closely. It also allows him the opportunity of running in frequently and arguing with the umpire over disputed plays.
So far nothing had happened to warn the dozing tramp of their coming. All of the boys had gotten under way without a single mishap in the line of a stumble, which would serve to warn their intended victim.
He was still sprawled out alongside the warm fire, and doubtless enjoying himself in true hobo style, caring nothing as to what went wrong with the world, so long as he did not miss a meal.
Thad would have been much better satisfied could he have glimpsed that badly wanted army coat somewhere around; but its absence, although to be regretted, must not interfere with the programme he had laid out.