Newall reached the door of the shed, opened it, and passed in. Simultaneously Harry blew the whistle. At the signal, Plunger pulled the string which communicated with the basket immediately over the doorway, sending its contents showering down on the head of Newall.
Newall gasped and staggered in the darkness, striking out wildly with his arms. He had a confused idea that some enormous bird of prey had suddenly swooped down from the roof, and was flapping its wings over his head.
"Ooshter—ooshter! Get out of it!" he gasped, as he reeled about and struck out wildly at his imaginary foe.
Meantime Plunger had slid down quickly from the tree, and, accompanied by Viner and Bember, who had been awaiting the signal in the rear, rushed round to the front. The three held on to the door, so as to keep their victim floundering about in the darkness till they saw fit to release him.
"Splendid; couldn't be better," chuckled Plunger. "My, isn't old Baldy carrying on?"
His companions could not answer. They were doing their best to smother their laughter.
"My, he's carrying on awful!" went on Plunger. "Breaking up the happy home. Didn't think Baldy had so much spring in him. Seems to be all over the shop. Do you hear him, Moncrief? Where is Moncrief?"
Moncrief had made himself scarce. He had retreated to a safe distance, where Baldry was awaiting him. By the time he reached him, he, too, was exploding with laughter.
"Well, what's happened?" asked Baldry.
"Oh, don't ask me. It's too funny for words."