"I've got one," answered Dick, and feeling in his pocket he produced one of the new-style electric pocket lights. He pushed the button and instantly the light flashed out, as from a bull's-eye lantern.
"Hurrah, that's a good thing!" cried Tom. "By the way, isn't it queer there is no watchman here?"
"Maybe the night watchman hasn't got around yet," answered Dick, and struck the truth.
They began to move around the shed, much to the alarm of both Dan
Baxter and Lew Flapp.
"I don't see any trace—" began Dick, when of a sudden the light landed fairly and squarely on Baxter's face. Then it shifted to the face of Lew Flapp.
"The old Harry take you, Dick Rover!" yelled Baxter, in a sudden rage, and throwing his whole weight against the pile of boards on which the eldest Rover was standing, he caused it to go over, hurling Dick flat on his back on the floor.
"Dick, are you hurt?" called out Tom. The electric light had been broken, and all was pitch-dark.
"I—I guess—not," answered Dick. "But it was a close shave."
"They are getting out!" came from Sam, as he heard a scuffling of feet.
"No—they are going into the factory," shouted Tom. "Stop, Baxter! Stop,
Flapp! If you don't—Oh!"