The balance of the scouts had managed to
scramble to their feet after that jarring tumble; and were even then at his heels, grumbling and limping.
"It's Ted himself, that's what!" called Bobolink, at this exciting juncture.
The fellow turned his head while crouching in the window, just ready to drop outside. Paul could hardly keep from laughing at what he saw. Possibly foreseeing some such predicament as this, and not wishing to have his identity known if it could be avoided, what had the daring bell-ringer done but assumed an old mask that might have been a part of a Valentine night's fun, or even a left-over from last Hallowe'en frolic.
At any rate it was a coal-black face that Paul saw, with a broad grin capable of no further expansion.
"Yah! yah! yah!" laughed the pretended darky, as he waved a hand mockingly in their direction, and then vanished from view.
Paul thought he recognized something familiar about the voice, though he could not be absolutely certain. And it was not the bully of Stanhope, Ted Slavin, that he had in mind, either.
There arose a chorus of bitter cries of disappointment, showing how the scouts felt over the escape of the intruder who had played such a successful practical joke on the troop.
"He's skidooed!" exclaimed Bobolink, in dis