“I doubt it.  But it is awful still around here.  I wonder where that dog can be?  It would be a surprise if the fellows got away with the turks without making any noise at—­”

There was a sudden hubbub, a terrible squalling and squawking, the barking of a dog, and the report of a gun!

CHAPTER XX.

A hot chase.

“My stars!” gasped Harry.  “There’s trouble, sure enough!”

“I should remark!” palpitated Robinson.  “I’ll bet a dollar one of the fellows is full of shot!”

“And somebody is in danger of being full of teeth directly.  Come, this is our time to create a diversion.”

Then Harry let himself out.  He whooped like a wild Indian and pranced right up toward the house.  Robinson followed the good example, but they did not seem very successful in attracting attention to themselves.

Two dark figures were seen scudding through the orchard, and then a man came out of the house, slamming the door and shouting: 

“Sick ’em, Tige—­sick the pesky rascals!  Chaw ’em up!  Don’t let ’em git erway!  Take ’em, dorg!”

The dog was doing his duty in the vicinity of one of the sheds, but his barking suddenly turned to howls of pain, and several blows were distinctly heard.

Despite the two yelling and dancing lads in the road, the old farmer made for the shed, and it was seen that he had a gun in his hands.

“He’s going to shoot somebody!” cried Harry, wildly.  “We must hake a tand—­er—­take a hand in this!  Come on!”

With all the speed he could command Rattleton dashed after the farmer.  The barking of the dog had suddenly ceased, and a third dark figure was seen scudding through the orchard.

“Stop, you pesky thief!” yelled the farmer.  “If you don’t stop I’ll shoot!  I’ll fire ye full of lead!”

Then he halted and raised his gun to his shoulder.  He was quite unaware that Harry was now quite close upon him.

When Rattleton saw the man raise the gun he swung back the hand that held the heavy stick.  With all his strength he hurled the stick at the farmer.

Whiz!  It sped through the air and struck the man fairly between the shoulders.  At the same instant the gun spoke, but the farmer went down in a heap, and his aim was spoiled.

“Had to do it to save some one of the fellows from carrying off a load of buckshot,” muttered Rattleton, who was desperate.  “I don’t want to see anybody shot to-night.”

He did not stop running, but he dashed straight up to the man, snatched up the gun, and fled onward.

“Hey! hey!” cried the man, as he scrambled to his feet.  “Consarn you!  Drop that gun!  Bring it back!”

“Come get it!” invited Harry, with a defiant laugh.

The farmer started after the boy, who led him a merry chase across the fields and over the fences.  Harry kept just far enough ahead to lure the panting man on.