They heard him utter a snarl. Then he reached in with one hand, there was a sudden “click” and the parlor was flooded with light, for the deacon had turned the electric switch!
Of course in that dazzling glow the nature of the precious “fake” was readily exposed. The boys saw the deacon stare angrily at them, and then whirling around rush back into his library as though for something with which to assail these unbidden guests.
“Cut for it, fellows; he’s gone for his gun!” exclaimed Nat, excitedly, at the same moment throwing his sheet aside and heading directly for the open window, through which he plunged headlong.
The others, seized with a panic after the collapse of Nat’s grand scheme, also jumped for the only exit. Some went through about as speedily as Nat had done, while others attempted climbing down a little more carefully.
By great good luck every one managed to get outside the house before Old Jed appeared in the open window of the lighted parlor, carrying a rusty double-barrel shotgun in his hands. He was very angry it seemed, because of the fright to which he had been subjected, for without hesitation, he fired both barrels of his weapon, though aiming a bit high.
Seven panic-stricken boys plunged through a wilderness of bushes, colliding with sundry trees which they failed to notice, and reaching the fence by the road at various angles. Here there were exhibited all sorts of speedy “high and lofty vaulting,” as the circus posters term it, some of the fellows even landing on all fours in the dust of the road.
A short time afterwards a number of them collected on the sand lot to compare experiences. Several were nursing bumps they had received from a too close and intimate acquaintance with the trees in Deacon Nocker’s front yard. Dan was holding his handkerchief to his nose, and the sanguinary hue of the aforementioned article would indicate that he had come to grief in his mad flight.
Still they would not have been real boys if they had not seen the humorous side of their late adventure. Even Dan chuckled between dips with his handkerchief, though Dick made him throw his head back, and breathe evenly so as to try to stop the flow of blood.
“Where’s Nat?” demanded Leslie, half angrily.
“Oh! you won’t see Nat around again,” asserted Andy, confidently. “I know him too well to expect that. He’s about home by this time, for his kind always runs away, to let others shoulder the blame.”