"Now, what sort of a queer rumpus would you call that?" asked Step Hen.
"Made me think of somebody kicking his heels into the floor, or some such stunt as that," Giraffe declared; while Davy nodded his head, as though there was no need for him to say anything when another voiced his sentiments so exactly.
"Thad, are we going to stand this any longer?" Allan demanded,
"No, we must see what's inside that place; so come along, boys, and we'll break in the door!" with which words the scout-master ran quickly forward, the others almost outstripping him, so great was their eagerness to be "in the swim," no matter what happened.
The door seemed to be fastened in some way; though there was nothing in the way of a pistol shot or even a gruff voice warning them off.
Thad tried in vain to find the fastening.
"Pick up that log, and use it as a battering ram!" he ordered; and the other four scouts hastened to do so, while the patrol leader stood ready with his gun, not knowing how soon he might have need of it for defense.
As the log came crashing against the door it flew wide open, proving that it had never been really intended as a means for keeping enemies out. Dropping the log, and at once snatching up their weapons, the scouts rushed to the open doorway, to stare into the cabin. What they saw amazed, and yet delighted them. There was not an enemy in sight; but some object moved upon the hard puncheon floor; and looking closer they discovered that it was no other than Bumpus, bound hand and foot, gagged, and with his face as red as a boiled lobster, redder by far than his fiery hair.