Frank and Jack were in advance. Their hats were tipped down over their eyes, for they did not wish Rudge to recognize them before they could use the blanket.
As they approached the tree they could see a dark figure that was hugging the trunk. That dark figure almost seemed to be a part of the tree.
“There he is!” whispered Jack.
“’Sh!” cautioned Merry.
It was plain enough that the man under the tree wished to escape observation, for he remained perfectly motionless where the shadows were thickest.
Frank and Jack walked along as if they meant to pass him. When they were directly beneath the tree, Merriwell suddenly made a pantherish sidelong leap.
Open fluttered the blanket, and in a moment it was wrapped about the head and shoulders of the spying proctor.
Jack sprang to Merriwell’s aid, and, despite the man’s struggles, he was helpless before Rattleton and Browning came running to the spot, eager to help.
The proctor had uttered a smothered cry and then fought fiercely, but Merriwell hoarsely growled:
“Be silent if you value your life! We are desperate men.”