Pulling himself together with a shout of rage, Sam joined in the chase.
Fred slipped the bar from the door, and pushed it open.
“Now’s our chance, fellows!” he shouted. “Sam’ll never catch them, and he’ll be back here in a minute. Let’s beat it while the going’s good.”
He set the pace, and they needed no urging to follow close on his heels. All reached the fence and leaped over it. And not till they found themselves on the other side, did they dare to breathe.
“Jiminy!” gasped Bob, “that was a narrow squeak!”
“A miss is as good as a mile,” panted Jim.
“We didn’t get here a minute too soon, either,” said Teddy. “See, there’s Sam coming back, now.”
“He’s not much of a sprinter,” commented Jack, as the heavily built farmer came lumbering back, muttering angrily to himself.
“No,” assented Jim, “and it’s lucky for those tramps that he isn’t. But Tige had a little better luck,” he added, as the dog came trotting beside his master, holding in his mouth a patch of cloth that he had torn from one of his enemies.
“Chewing the rag, as usual,” chuckled Bob. “They make a sweet pair, don’t they?”