“Of course you’ll have to lay the baby down,” said Joe, carelessly. “You can’t make the right motions unless you do.”
The lunatic looked at him with a sudden glint of suspicion in his eyes, but Joe was so apparently indifferent that he slowly laid the baby down.
Joe’s heart was beating high now with excitement as the critical moment approached that would test the success of the plan that had suddenly darted into his brain.
A number of the village boys had been building a snow fort and having a mock battle in the lumber yard that afternoon. The snow was very wet and the snowballs that had been formed from it had almost the consistency of stone. A number of these “soakers” were still lying about and Joe saw his chance.
“Sam,” he murmured in a low voice to Sam Berry. “Make me three or four hard snowballs about as big as a baseball. Don’t ask me why but make them hard and quick.”
Sam asked no questions but worked frantically, and soon stood alongside Joe with his hands behind his back.
“All ready, Joe,” he whispered. “Just reach out when the time comes and I’ll put one in your hand.”
The time had nearly come. Joe’s manœuvering had brought it about that the baby was out of the madman’s hands. The last step remained to be taken.
“That’s fine,” roared Joe, as the stranger, after making both hands revolve in the air, was about to pick up the baby. “Now, there’s just this one thing more and if you can do that, it will prove that you and I are brother members of the same lodge.”