Down the road came volleys of ringing yells, as though from the throats of a lot of happy savages.
“Rah! rah! rah!”
“College boys, or a lot of young fellows masquerading as such!” flashed jubilantly through Tom Halstead’s brain.
“Rah! rah! rah! Wow! Right here! Trouble! Hustle!” roared Tom, as huskily as his lung power permitted.
“Stop that, you infernal imp!” snarled Rexford, leaping back from the road.
“Colby! Here on the run! Trouble!” roared Halstead at the top of his voice.
“What’s that? Who’s there?” came a hail from up the road.
Whizz-zz! Thump! A stone, guided by Rexford’s hand, came through the air, glancing from one of Halstead’s shins.
“Hustle here quick! Follow the voice!” roared Tom.