“Hey, Brad!” he shouted. “We’ve got him! Come on!”
The Texan rose, uttering a snort.
The white object seemed trying to open the door, but it resisted his efforts.
“No use,” declared Dick triumphantly. “The trap is sprung, and you’re caught!”
He advanced on the spook, who turned, uttering a low snarl. Dick saw an uplifted hand, dodged, clutched a very real wrist, held fast and closed with the fellow.
“Light up, Brad!” he cried.
Buckhart struck a match and lighted the lamp. The spook fought desperately, and Buckhart hastened to aid Dick to subdue him. They smashed against the furniture and walls, overturning chairs and making a great racket.
The noise aroused others, and there came a heavy knocking at their door, while many voices demanded admittance.
“We’ve—roused—the whole—’cademy!” panted Buckhart.
“All right,” panted Dick, as he skilfully tripped the spook and they all came crashing to the floor.