"Say, when you heard that groan, didn't you feel like skipping out?"

asked Bristles, with a vein of secret admiration in his voice now.

"Me? Well, I guess not," replied the other, pugnaciously. "I just reckoned there was somebody inside there that was sick; and when I couldn't open any door, I crawled up the wheel, and slid in through the hole, just like we used to do long ago, Sid Wells, when we came up here to swim and fish."

"That's all there is to it," declared Colon. "I heard somebody coming along, and called out, so he found me lying here, tied up like a turkey used to be when they cooked him on the old time spit. And while Gabe chawed away at the knots we did some chinning, believe me. But boys, I'm right glad to see you. What's the latest news from home?"

"Why, the whole town's in an uproar about the way you went off without so much as saying good-bye," Bristles said; which of course, caused Colon to chuckle; for any boy would feel good to know that, for once, his worth was appreciated.

Possibly some of those same good people who were now so much concerned about his welfare had many times in the past referred to him as "that long-legged imp who ought to be taught better manners at home;" for Colon as a younger boy had been rather inclined to be saucy.

Hearing the sound of voices, Corney and Semi-Colon had by now entered the mill, and were working the arm of their newly-found chum like a pump handle.

"But one thing makes me sore," said Bristles; "and that is, we don't know any more'n we did before who did this business. They were boys, you said, Colon; but how can we tell whether they hailed from Riverport or Mechanicsburg?"

"I give you my word----" began Felix Wagner; when Colon interrupted him.

"Say, there might be a way to tell," he remarked, jubilantly.

"As how?" demanded the eager Bristles.

"Why, you see, when they jumped me I gave 'em all I knew how, and kicked and hit as hard as I could," the tall boy went on.

"Think you marked any of 'em for keeps, Colon?" asked Bristles, feverishly.

"I'm dead sure," Colon continued; "that once I landed a straight from the shoulder jab square in the eye of a feller; because I heard him yell out like it hurt. And say, perhaps if you look around, you might find somebody with a black and blue eye."

Bristles gave a whoop that echoed through the dusty, cobwebbed mill.

"You got him, all right, sure you did, Colon!" he cried. "And it was a peach of a hit, too. It was Buck and his crowd that played this mean trick on you. How do I know? Why right now one of his fellers, Oscar Jones, is nursing a bruised left eye. Heard him tellin' how he got up last night, thinkin' he heard the fire bell ring, and run plumb into the corner of the bureau. Oh! there ain't any more suspicion restin' on your team-mates, Felix. We all ask you to forget it."

"And let's be getting out of this, boys," Colon spoke up. "I've seen all I ever want to of the old mill. Never catch me coming up here again, I tell you."

And so they trooped out into the cheery October sunlight. The broken door was propped up the best they could manage. No one was caring much, anyway. They had accomplished their main object in the morning jaunt; Colon had been found, and he declared that he was as fit as ever to run, despite his long condition of helplessness, and his hungry state. What more could they ask?

And as Gabe, the butcher's boy, made a move as if to leave them at the end of the winding, overgrown lane, Fred insisted on every fellow shaking his hand heartily.

"You've sure made good, Gabe," declared Bristles, remembering what he had thought of the other when his aunt's opals were taken by the thoughtless butcher's boy; "and I'm proud to shake hands with you."

CHAPTER XIV

PRACTICE FOR THE RACE

"About time you started on your five mile run, isn't it, Fred? Because the afternoon's slipping away," said d.i.c.k Hanshaw, as he came over to the little group of boys who were chatting on the green of the field, which later on would be the scene of the gathering crowds coming to witness the athletic meet of the three rival schools.

Dozens of the lads were in their "working togs," as they called them.

Indeed, all around was a scene of great activity. Men were hammering away at a tremendous rate, putting up the last series of raised seats intended to accommodate the spectators on the next day, many of whom would be willing to pay for good seats. And here and there, all over the field, boys were running, jumping, vaulting with poles, and doing all sorts of stunts connected with athletics.

Colon had not come out at all. It had been decided that after his adventure he must take more rest, in order to be fit for the events of the morrow. He was at home, playing dominoes with one of his chums.

Others came and went as though he might be holding a reception. And the news concerning his condition was eagerly sought with the appearance of every new bunch of schoolboys arriving on the field.

Fred was in his usual running costume, for he meant to make a last try to beat his record, so as to know how he would stand when the final test came. There was a string of good fellows ranged against him in that five mile race; and Fred did not pretend to be without doubts concerning his ability to head the procession.

"I was just thinking that myself, d.i.c.k," he replied as he stooped down to tie his shoes over again, in preparation for a start. "The four entries from Riverport are getting impatient to start; but Brad is holding back for some reason or other."

"Here he comes this way now, and perhaps we'll know what it means,"

remarked d.i.c.k; who had intended to be one of the long distance squad himself, but straining a tendon in his foot that very morning had made him give up the idea.

Brad Morton came bustling along. Fred saw that he looked worried, and wondered what could have gone wrong now. With Colon safe it did not seem as if anybody connected with the Riverport school should be anxious.

"Do we start soon, Brad?" he asked, as the captain of the track team reached convenient talking distance.

"The rest do; but the committee have decided to make a change about your running, Fred," were the surprising words he heard.

"Oh! that's all right," Fred replied, smiling; "I'm ready to give up to some better man, if that's what you mean."

"What?" gasped d.i.c.k Hendricks.

"Oh! rats!" cried Brad. "There's no better man in this matter at all, Fred. Fact is, you're the only one in our string who stands a good chance of beating that speedy Boggs in to-morrow's race. I've heard some talk among a lot of Mechanicsburg fellows. They're trying to get a line on your kind of running, Fred; which shows that they know right well you're the only one they need fear."

"Oh! well, they've seen me run lots of times when we played baseball and fought it out on the gridiron," remarked Fred, naturally flushing a little under the kind words of praise.

"Yes, that's so; but it's got out that you've picked up a new kink in the way of getting over ground. They kept harping on that all the time.

And I got the notion they've some of their crowd posted along the course to-day to take notes and compare time, so they can spot what you do. If you've got a weak point, climbing hills for instance, they'll report, and that's where Boggs will pa.s.s you."

"Well, you've got something up your sleeve, Brad, when you tell me this; so out with it," Fred observed, reading the other's face cleverly.

"It's this," the track captain went on; "when the rest of the string start you drop out, and disappear like fog. Then they'll have their trouble for their pains."

"That sounds nice, but tell me where does my needed exercise come in?"

remarked Fred; "and I'd like to get a line myself on what I can do."

"See here, don't you know of some other five mile course you could take on the sly, without anybody being the wiser for it?" asked Brad.

"Why, yes, I do, only it happens to be a harder run all told, than the course mapped out by the committee," replied Fred, promptly.

"That oughtn't to make much difference," the other went on, with a sigh of relief; "you'll know right well that if you can make it in the same time you've done the regular course, it'll be all the better."

"Is this really necessary, Brad?" asked d.i.c.k; "lots of us expected to get a line on Fred ourselves; and if he sneaks off unbeknown, how're we going to know what to expect to-morrow?"

"We talked it over, and that's what we settled on," came the reply. "So just hold your horses, d.i.c.k, till to-morrow. Fred's going to show you something then that he's keeping up his sleeve. You mark me."

"Don't take any stock in what Brad says," declared Fred. "I haven't anything so wonderful, only a little notion that came to me, and which I really believe does help me get over the ground a little bit faster, with less fatigue. But wait and see what to-morrow brings along. Now, Brad, suppose you arrange things so that I can be close to those bushes over yonder when the pistol sounds for the start. Once I get in there, I'll drop down, and let the rest pa.s.s me. After that I'll find a way to leave without being seen; and start off on my own hook over another five mile course."

"And Fred, when you come back, go straight home without showing up here.