Tom Pushed the Heir Through the Window.
There was not a sound outside. Tom Halstead pushed the Dunstan heir through the window, lowering him swiftly to the kitchen annex. The young motor boat captain then descended by the lightning rod. He carried Ted, naturally unresisting, to the edge of the annex, lowering him to the ground. Halstead went down himself at a bound, landing on his feet. In a fever of anxiety he found his shoes, swiftly lacing them on.
Now slipping off the noose, Tom loosely coiled the rope about one arm. Lifting Ted Dunstan, Captain Halstead fled straight across the rear yard and in among the trees.
“There, I hope we’ve got you away from that crowd,” panted Tom, putting his unwilling companion down. “But we’ve got to hustle, so you’ll have to use your own feet a bit. Woe unto you, though, if you try any tricks on the stranger who happens to be your best friend at this moment!”
Hiding the rope in a thicket near by; Halstead quickly slashed away the cord at Ted Dunstan’s ankles.
“Now you’ll come along with me and you’ll come mighty fast!” breathed Captain Tom resolutely, as he seized one of the boy’s arms.
At first Ted acted as though he intended to drag, but the quality of muscle in the young motor boat skipper’s arms must have shown him the folly of such tactics, for presently he trotted at the older boy’s side.
Yet they had not gone more than two hundred yards before something else happened. Out from behind a tree shot a human figure. Its owner sprang at Tom Halstead, locking him in a sturdy embrace. Down to the ground went Halstead and his assailant, rolling over and over in fierce, battling embrace.
Ted Dunstan lost not an instant in seeing and seizing his opportunity. His feet, at least, free and able, that youngster whirled and dashed back toward the farmhouse.