It was not long before the captive’s hands were securely fastened behind his back. Then they lifted him and stood him on his feet. By this time it had grown quite dark in the room.
"Now," said Merriwell, "two of you fellows saunter out and see when the coast is clear. Give us the signal, and we’ll run him out round the building, get him back of the gym, and carry him off across the field."
It was strange that none of them thought of rebelling against accepting this plebe as their leader, and the team was made up of men in every class; but during the past few weeks Dick had made a record that seemed to indicate his right to be a leader, and, in the excitement of the moment, the fact that he was a plebe did not count against him.
As directed, two of them went out and looked around. Pretty soon one of them slipped back and hissed at the door.
"Come on, quick!" he said. "Now is our time."
Cranch made one more feeble attempt to resist, but they packed about him, grasping his arms, and he was carried forward. Out through the hall, down the steps, and round the corner hastily went that mass of lads, bearing the captive spy in their midst. They did not pause, rushing round the gymnasium, and soon they were quite a distance away from the buildings.
No sentry paced the path across the field at this season of the year, and they escaped without being challenged or stopped. Not till they were far away, however, did they pause for a breathing-spell.
"Talk about rustling cattle!" exclaimed Buckhart, in a low tone. "Well, this must be something like it, though I allow I never took part in that kind of a game."
"Will you agree to keep quiet if we take the handkerchiefs off?" asked Dick of Cranch.
The captive nodded.