“That’s right, Bob; whoop ’er up!” cried Jed.
He gave a long, rousing yell, which produced a most extraordinary result.
A crowd came rushing out on the porch and down the steps of the house. And every one among them eyed the approaching horse and its double burden with apparently the greatest astonishment.
And Bob Somers was astonished, too; for, as the nag galloped across the last stretch, he recognized his friends—the friends whom he had thought were miles away.
And there was Jerry Duncan, his round, smiling face wearing a ludicrous expression of amazement.
“Hello—hello!” yelled Bob. He tried to control the ring of triumph in his voice—to still the excitement which gripped him.
They swung up amidst the group and sprang to the ground. Then, for the first time, the boys seemed to find their tongues. But it was not until Larry Burnham caught the name “Jed Warren” passing from lip to lip that he understood what the riotous, uproarious demonstration was all about.
CHAPTER XXV
EVERYBODY HAPPY
Yes, it was a riotous and uproarious demonstration. And the noise which echoed and reëchoed between the hills was probably the greatest those narrow confines had ever heard.
The boys slapped Jed Warren on the back and wrung his hand, until the policeman, in sheer self-defense, was obliged to back up against the porch and hold them at bay.