Bud Morgan was much in evidence with that baseball bat of his. He did not have the heart to use it upon the craniums of the men, but kept shoving them backward again and again when it looked as though they might get to their feet in spite of the various figures clinging to their arms and legs.
This sort of thing lasted for perhaps a full minute. It may have been much more than that, for no one was in a position to take note of the passage of time, being wholly occupied with the work of attack and defense.
With half a dozen-boys busily employed in mixing things up for each of the men, the tramps soon had enough of the mêlée. First the tall fellow gave tongue to indicate that he would be glad to surrender, at which Hugh told him to fall flat on his face so they could secure his arms behind him. Then the other, seeing how hopeless it was to try and ward off a reinforced army, hastened to do likewise.
After they had both been secured with the stout cords Hugh had been wise enough to carry along, being parts of the very rope used to lower Gusty to the ledge where the scouts found him, all of the boys breathed easier.
Billy fairly hugged the scout master in the exuberance of joy.
“We did it!” he panted, not having yet been able to recover fully from his violent exertions. “They’re our prisoners of war, Hugh, taken in fair battle! Hurrah for the Boy Scouts, say I!”
Up to this point things had been so dreadfully mixed that the hoboes had not been able to understand what it all meant. When Billy thus gave voice to his pent-up feelings, the shorter rascal rolled over on his back, raised his head as well as his bound condition would allow, and took a good look at their captors. Then he laughed harshly as though completely disgusted.
“Say, wot d’ye know about it, Pete? We’ve gone an’ got cotched by a parcel o’ kids, arter all! Me to the pen arter this. I’d be afraid o’ bein’ left alone in the dark for fear o’ ghosts. Sure we’re a couple o’ greenies to let Boy Scouts round us up. I wish somebody’d kick me, so’s to find out if I’m awake or only dreamin’.”
Nobody volunteered to perform this kind office for him. The scouts were quite willing, but had some consideration for the feelings of those whom the fortunes of war chanced to throw into their hands.
“Gusty, do you know how much money they took from you?” asked the scout master as he looked up from searching the pockets and clothing of the pair.