"Hey! what are you——" but further sound
was instantly cut off by Paul's clapping his hand over Bobolink's mouth.
"Keep still! They're at the door right now!" he breathed into the ear of the struggling one.
That seemed to tell Bobolink what it all meant. No doubt his first impression had been that the enemy had stolen a march on them, and meant to make them prisoners in their own quarters.
He ceased to squirm, and encouraged by this Paul by degrees removed his muffling hand, so that Bobolink could breathe freely again.
The sounds had commenced once more. William was also sitting up by now, and fairly quivering with eagerness, as he fondled the extra large club he had selected for his individual use.
Voices, too, reached their ears, as though the unknown parties without, finding themselves balked by the fact that the door was locked, were conferring as to how they might gain entrance.
"Maybe they've gone and made a duplicate key," suggested William, as he and the other three scouts put their heads close together.
No one thought it at all out of the question. They had run up against these energetic plotters so often in the past, that they were well acquainted with their ways; and nothing surprised them in connection with Ted Slavin's crowd.
"Perhaps we'd better move closer to the door,