"Hullo!" came from Paul. "Give it up, did you?"
"No, the tramps stopped us!" called out Link. "Surround them, fellows, and don't let one of them get away. They are nothing but chicken thieves!"
By this time all of the hounds had come up. Some carried sticks and the others took up stones and whatever they could find handy. The tramps were surrounded, and when Gassy tried to break away he was promptly hurled back and given a crack on the head by Joe.
"I know your kind!" cried Joe. "I've met 'em before. Stay where you are!" And he flourished his stick in a threatening manner.
"Dis is all a mistake, gents!" whined one of the tramps. "We didn't mean no harm to yer friends. We was only foolin'."
"Tell that to the bullfrogs!" came from Harry. "They forced us to stay here. Look at the chickens and the chicken bones. They are assuredly thieves."
"I know the farmer who lives on the next farm," said one of the boys. "If you say so, I'll run over to his house and see if he has lost any chickens."
"Go ahead, and be quick about it," replied Joe.
The boy made off and another boy went with him. Fortunately the farmer was met near his barn, in company with two of his sons.
"Lost chickens?" he queried. "Jest guess I have, Bob. Lost three last night an' four the night before. What do you know about 'em?" And when the boys had told their story the farmer lost no time in arming himself with a shotgun. His sons got good clubs, and then the whole party made its way to the tramps' camp.