The assembled scouts, arrested by this unexpected peal just as they were in the act of rushing forth to try and capture those who had been spying on the meeting, stared at each other in mute astonishment and indignation.
Every one seemed to quickly understand just what it meant, nor were they long in finding their voices to denounce the outrage.
"It's a punk trick, fellows!" exclaimed Jack, his face filled with growing anger. "They want to force the church trustees to chase us out of our quarters here!"
"Yes," echoed Bobolink, trembling with eagerness to do something, he hardly knew just what, "it's a plot to throw us out in the cold, that's what! Talk to me about a mean, low-down trick—this takes the cake!"
"Let's surround the feller at the rope! Then we'll have something to show that it wasn't our fault the old bell jangled!" cried another member of the troop.
"On the jump, Foxes!" shouted William.
Immediately there was a grand rush. Some went through the door, aiming to gain the outer air, in the hope of cutting off any escaping enemy. Others rushed towards the stairs, by means of which the vestibule of the old church could be reached, where dangled the rope that moved the bell.
Paul led this latter group. He was boiling with indignation over the trick that had been played, for it promised to put the orderly scouts in bad odor with the custodian of the building, who had been so kind to them.
The sexton, whose name was Peter Ostertag, usually lighted the gymnasium for them, and then went over to his own cottage near by. It was his usual habit to return at about ten o'clock, when the meeting disbanded, in order to put out the lights, and close the building. Perhaps he might even then be on his way across lots.