“Keep up the good work, Bluff. It’s immense,” encouraged Frank, who really believed that, after all, the other had hit upon a clever way to force a surrender on the part of the defiant hoboes.
Suddenly the energetic fireman gave a loud cheer.
“They shove out the white flag! They surrender! What d’ye think of my plan, now, fellows? There’s Waddy waving it out of the window! Don’t shoot the poor duck—he’s pretty near all in, and blind with the smoke!” he whooped.
It was so.
Perhaps the article that the boy tramp was waving wildly out of the small opening may have hardly deserved the name of white flag, but his intentions could not be doubted.
Smoke had won against stubborn grit, and the hoboes were ready to throw up their hands!
CHAPTER XXIV—A NEW ALARM
“Do you give up, Waddy?” demanded Frank, menacingly holding his gun leveled.
“Oh, we’ll hands up, all right. Both of us are on the blink with the smoke, and nigh blind. Call it off, fellers,” whined the owner of the dirty face in the opening, while he coughed several times to emphasize his words.
“All right, then. Now, tell Biffins that we want him out first, and if he tries to run, it’s a charge of bird shot for him in the rear. Get that?”