The ambush was made—a gooseberry ambush, Tom called it—and for quite an hour Tom knelt on a sack waiting patiently, but there was not a sound, and he was beginning to think it a miserably tiresome task, when all at once, as they crouched there securely hidden, watching the wall, some eight feet away, it seemed to Tom that he could see a peculiar rounded black fungus growing out of the top.
It was very indistinct, and the growth was very slow, but it certainly increased, and the boy stretched out his hand to reach over an intervening gooseberry-bush so as to touch David, but he touched an exceedingly sharp thorn instead and winced, but fortunately made no noise.
Hoping that David had seen what was before him, Tom waited for a few moments, with the dark excrescence still gradually growing, till he could contain himself no longer, and reaching this time with his stick, he gave the gardener a pretty good poke, when the return pressure told him that this time his companion was well upon the alert.
All at once, when the dark object had grown up plainly into a head and shoulders, it ceased increasing, and remained perfectly motionless, as if a careful observation was being made by some one watchful in the extreme.
“Why don’t David throw?” thought Tom, who held himself ready to spring forward at a moment’s notice, “He could not help catching him now.”
But David made no signal, and Tom crouched there with his nerves tingling, waiting in the darkness for the time when he must begin.
At the end of about ten minutes there was a quick rustling sound, the dark shadow altered its shape, and Tom saw that whoever it was lay straight along upon the wall perfectly motionless for a few minutes longer as if listening intently. Then very quickly there was another motion, a sharp rustling, and the intruder dropped upon the ground.
It was too dark to see what followed, but Tom knew that David had risen slowly upright, and uttered a grunt as he threw something, evidently the lasso; for there was a dull sound, then a rush and a scrambling and crashing, as of some one climbing up the wall, and lastly David shouted—
“Got him, sir. Let him have it.”
Tom darted forward and came in contact with the rope, which was strained tightly from where David hung back to the top of the wall, the lassoed thief having rushed back as soon as touched by the rope, reached the top of the wall, and threw himself over, to hang there just below quite fast, but struggling violently, and making a hoarse noise like some wild beast.