As the three men made their way through the night, Jake kept emitting occasional exclamations, while Empty gurgled forth chuckles of delight. Each was giving vent in his own way to his feelings over the events of the night. Douglas said nothing, but walked silently by their side. He was thinking over more serious matters in which Ben Stubbles loomed large and ominous. He believed that the struggle between himself and the Stubbles had now reached a crisis, and that he was in a fair way of winning a victory over Ben, at least, if he advanced carefully.
It was past midnight by the time they reached home. Jake made Empty come into the house.
"We're goin' to have something to eat," he told him, "an' I know you always shine when there's any grub around."
Mrs. Jukes was in bed, but it did not take Jake long to light the kitchen fire, boil some water, and prepare a pot of tea. This, with bread and jam from the pantry, formed their midnight repast, and when they were through Jake pushed back his chair and lighted his pipe.
"Great punkins!" he exclaimed, bringing his big fist down upon the table with a bang. "I wouldn't a' missed that racket to-night fer anything. I wonder what Ben'll think about it all now."
"Do you suppose the men will tell him?" Douglas asked.
"Sure. He knows all about it by now, I bet ye'r life. Most likely he was not fer off, the skunk, watchin' the hull racket. I wish to goodness I'd got the punch on his nose instead of Tom's. How I'd like to have heard him squeal, ho, ho."
"What will Ben do next, do you think?"
"It's hard to tell. But he'll do something, mark my word."
"Yes, if we don't do something first."