But to let go his burden was the last thing Charlie thought of doing.
To his daring, determined nature only two alternatives presented themselves—escape with his booty or capture red-handed.
So away he sped, holding tight to the pillow-case, the collie and terrier punctuating his strenuous strides with short, sharp barks.
After his first furious spurt, the squire's speed rapidly slackened until it became little more than a laboured jog-trot; and by the time he reached the entrance to the long avenue leading from the main road to the academy, Charlie was under the window and jerking the sheet-rope by way of a signal to the boys to haul him up.
Unfortunately, they were so occupied with some of their nonsense that they did not at first observe the signal, and precious moments were lost before they responded, so that Charlie's anxious ears caught the sound of the squire's panting as he toiled gamely along the avenue.
(Charlie climbing the sheet-rope)
"Hurry up, boys!" he called, as loudly as he dared; "the squire's after me!"
The boys responded with a sudden jerk that snatched him off the ground, and nearly made him drop the apples. Then up he went more steadily, foot by foot.
But he was not half-way to the window when the squire, guided by his clever dogs, arrived upon the scene, and in spite of the semi-darkness his keen old eyes took in the situation at a glance.