“Not for a minute!” responded the leader quickly. “Hunt a club, each one of you!” he ordered. “Arthur, drop that camera, and lend a hand. We may have to fight for it yet, there’s no telling.”
Apparently Arthur had added another triumph to his already swelling list of wonderful pictures, if that happy grin on his face went for anything. But all the same, he did carefully lay his precious camera down close beside the wounded man, and then look around for a suitable stick that would come under the name of club.
When Hugh had seen that all of them had managed to find some sort of a weapon, he gave the word to move forward. The two queer figures in the faded striped garments were still bending this way and that, apparently so eager not to miss a single object of value from the overturned balloon basket that they were paying little attention to what was passing close by.
No doubt they had sized the situation up before showing themselves, and figured that all they had to contend with were a badly hurt aeronaut and a pack of half-grown lads, who would not dare come to hand-grips with so desperate a pair as themselves.
“Surround them, boys!” Hugh said the last thing. “Billy, you and Bud take to the right, and we’ll hold the left flank. If you have to hit, do it with a vim, remember!”
Of course the two men would never have lingered as long as they did had they suspected that they were in any danger; but the greed for gain was strong upon them; and no doubt they believed they might be able to sell those instruments somewhere and somehow, so as to get money with which to buy clothes that would conceal the fact that they were escaped jailbirds.
On this account, then, the boys were actually able to form a square about them before either of the men noticed what was happening. The wounded aeronaut was trying the best he could to get upon his feet, though what he could do to help, in his present weakened condition, was a mystery.
One of the criminals, catching sight of Billy with his big bludgeon, gave the alarm. Their arms were filled with all sorts of things, for it seemed a sin to neglect a golden opportunity that had come down to them, as it were, from the sky. And while they looked ready to clear out, at the same time they declined to throw down as much as a pair of field glasses.
Every boy started to circulate his club with as fierce an air as he could muster. Perhaps this was done as a method of alarming the convicts, and showing them what they must expect if rash enough to come too near, or if they neglected to fling away what they were carrying off. Then again it may have been that the scouts were getting their muscles into full play; just as a heavy home-run hitter likes to swing two bats around before stepping up to the rubber.
“Drop all that stuff, do you hear?” demanded Hugh as savagely as possible.