Matt started to close the door. It was held open by a stone and resisted his efforts. While he was kicking away the stone those inside the shed scented trouble and made a break for the doorway.
"Don't let them get out, Carl!" shouted Matt. "Keep them in. They laid a trap for us, and we'll spring it on them!"
"Hoop-a-la!" cried Carl, striking out with his fists.
If there was one thing Carl Pretzel loved more than another it was a fight; and now there was not only a chance to have a brisk skirmish with the enemy, but also to turn the tables on them. The Dutch boy's heart was in his work, and he planted one effective blow after another, as fast as he could move his arms.
Matt jumped to his aid. Fists shot out of the doorway only to be countered and beaten back. The opening was wide enough for the passage of a hand-car, but not wide enough for all those in the shed to break through side by side.
Slocum, by the shift of circumstances, was juggled to the front of the struggling drivers. Matt grabbed him and hurled him against those behind. Sercomb and Packard tumbled to the floor with Slocum on top. This left Finn and Mings battling fiercely in the entrance.
Matt launched a blow, straight from the shoulder, that drove Mings back against the inner wall; then, as Carl sparred with Finn, Matt pulled the door toward him.
"Out of the way, Carl!" Matt shouted.
The Dutch boy slipped aside and Matt slammed the door shut in Finn's face. Finn began to push, calling on the rest of his comrades to bear a hand. Carl, while Matt was tinkering with the heavy hasp and padlock, threw his weight against the door on the outside. Another moment and the padlock was snapped into place, leaving those inside practically helpless.
"Cock-a-tootle-too!" crowed Carl. "How you like dot, you fellers? Dot's vonce, by chincher, you got more as you pargained for, hey? Meppy you vill findt oudt, vone oof tose tays, how Modor Matt does t'ings, yah, I bed you!"