“It’s—it’s the Green Dragon!” babbled the Stealthy Stabber, with chattering teeth.
Even as he spoke, the gaping mouth of the creature yawned open. A fizzing spurt of yellow sparks darted from the cavity. With a blinding flash, a ball of crimson fire shot out at them, throwing a bloody glow over the scene. The horror was coming after them, belching flame and smoke!
Another ball of fire, this time a deathlike blue in color, burst in their midst. Without a further glance, the terrified youngsters took to their heels and ran through the underbrush, stumbling, falling, crying out as they fled from that ghastly spot. Far in the van was the doughty Blum, almost out of his head with fear, racing as though that glowing green devil was right at his heels!
Dirk Van Horn had risen to his feet, and had backed away from the oncoming monster. He could flee no further; his legs were weak with fright; his back was braced against the towering totem-pole of the Lenape tribe; and his teeth were clenched to keep himself from crying out. Straight toward him shambled the glowing shape, showering many-colored sparks as it came!
He stared petrified. The dragon paused in the center of the ring, shot forth a final rain of sparks, and collapsed to the ground, its phosphorescent hide thrown back. From within its folds rose a high-pitched, mocking laugh that was harder for Dirk to bear than the blood-curdling groans it had formerly given forth.
That laugh! Dirk drew out his forgotten flashlight, and snapped the button. A ray of light shot out, and revealed Brick Ryan, rolling on the ground in a tempest of mirth, clutching in one hand a smoking thick tube of paper. At his side lay the cast-off skin of the “dragon” that had put to rout the brave band of Red Revengers.
Always Brick Ryan! Dirk sank limply to a seat, and put his head in his hands. The shock had been greater than he thought.
Brick, still chuckling, rose and came toward him. “Gollies! Did you see those bold lads run for it! They won’t stop until they’re safe in bed with the covers pulled over their heads! And nothin’ after them but F. X. A. Ryan wrapped up in an old piece of canvas rubbed with phosphorus!”
“But that terrible fire—those lights——” murmured Dirk. “Why—how——”
Brick burst into another peal of laughter. “Just a little old Roman candle left over from the Fourth of July! And in case you want to know how I found out what was up, I discovered a bit of a note under your pillow this afternoon, tellin’ all about your fine meetin’ and how you were goin’ to fix Ryan for keeps. But when Ryan came himself to see these brave laddies, they scooted like the pack of rabbits they are! Revengers! Huh! Dumb Blum and his gang of babies may be all right for sneakin’ around and messin’ up a fellow’s things, but they sure aren’t very happy out here in the woods at night!”