“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.