He recognized the voice as that of Ben Stone, whose figure he could perceive in the denser darkness under the tree. For a moment he hesitated; then, with a short laugh, he answered:
“Oh, just a bit of a monkey circus, that’s all. A few of my friends tried to force me into playing the clown, but I sure reckon the laugh is on them some. What are you doing here?”
“I knew something was up,” answered Stone, as he came forward, “and, while I didn’t want to butt in, I couldn’t choke down my curiosity entirely. Tell me about it.”
Grant did so briefly and concisely, beginning with his ambuscade by the fake Indians. Although a narrative unadorned and cut short, it was vivid and interesting enough to absorb the listener.
“All the time,” proceeded Rod, “I was doing my level best to get my hands free, for I allowed I’d sail into that bunch right lively if I could obtain the use of my paws. I was sure enough jarred some when they handed me into the dark room with the old skeleton and the thing rose up on its hind legs and groaned. That made me give an extra twist, and I broke the rope. I knew where I was, for Roger Eliot had shown me all over the gym. I likewise knew the powdered chalk for marking the field was kept on a shelf in that closet. It didn’t take me long to think of a plan to turn the laugh on that bunch of merry old roasters. I found the chalk and rubbed it over my face. Then, feeling around, I got hold of a cake of soap on the washstand and bit off a piece, which I proceeded to chew up so that I could froth at the mouth in fine shape. All the while I was chanting a funeral dirge a plenty doleful, punctuating it with occasional loud and mirthless ha-ha’s. The game worked well. They were listening, and I reckon it set them guessing. When I heard the key turning in the lock I proceeded to drop down on my shin bones in front of the skeleton, and I turned off a bit of the mad scene from Macbeth. Say, Stone, it knocked ’em stiff. Then when I saw I had them going I grabbed the old skeleton and made a dash at the bunch. They fell over one another in their urgent desire to give me ample room. I didn’t propose to let them get their hooks on me again, so I dropped old phosphorus bones, grabbed a chair, smashed a window, jumped through and touched the elevated spots outside. I opine the merry jesters left behind are a plenty disturbed about now, and——”
“’Sh!” hissed Ben suddenly, grasping Grant’s arm. “Here comes somebody.”
They hastily retreated into the darkness beneath the tree, from which shelter they saw a fellow pass at a run.
“One of my late entertainers on the way to his downy couch,” whispered Rod, smothering a chuckle of satisfaction. “I trust his slumbers to-night may not be disturbed by unpleasant dreams.”
“I believe it was Barker,” murmured Stone;
“Oh, Barker!” said Grant, with a snap of his jaws. “He was sort of a high cockalorum with the gang. I judge he put up the job on me. And now he’s quit his partners in crime and scooted. I sized him up for that kind of a piker. Let’s slide down to the gym and see how the gang is taking it.”