“Wh—who are you fel—fellows?” gasped Coulter.
“We are the Pornell Academy boys, and we mean to keep you from that party,” answered Andy, in a voice that sounded much like that of Grimes.
“Confound the luck!” growled Reff Ritter. “Say, Bock, this isn’t fair. You said in the letter you would help us to get Jack Ruddy into trouble.”
“Ha! ha! you were nicely fooled!” laughed Jack, still disguising his voice.
“March!” ordered Pepper.
“I won’t budge!” cried Paxton.
Scarcely had he spoken when he felt a whip lash across his legs.
“Ouch! Oh, let up! I’ll march!” he whined. “Don’t lash me again, please!”
As they were absolutely helpless with the strong bags tied down to their knees, Ritter Coulter and Paxton had to do as commanded, and they were marched out of a back door of the ice house and to a grove of trees some distance away.
“Hurry up, boys!” whispered Pepper, to his chums. “Somebody is coming down the road. It must be the Pornell Academy crowd!”