“And that means we have a tattler among us,” declared Burnham Putnam—­Old Put—­looking keenly around.

The boys looked at each other suspiciously, wondering if there was one of the number who would carry to the sophs.

To Frank’s surprise he saw that Walter Gordon was there.  Jack Diamond was also present.

Frank found an opportunity to get close to Dismal and whisper in his ear: 

“Great Caesar, old man! why did you invite Gordon here?”

“I did not.”

“Then how does he happen to be here?  He didn’t come without an invitation, I am sure of that.”

“He was in Billy’s when I asked Put to come up.  I knew you would like to have Put here.”

“That’s all right.”

“Well, Put asked Gordon to come along before I could prevent it.  Of course I didn’t have the crust to make any objection after that.”

“I should say not!  It’s all right, but you want to remember that the sophs found out something was going on.  Did Gordon come right along with you?”

“No.  He said he’d have to go to his room, but he showed up a few minutes after we arrived here.”

“Lots of mischief can be done in a few minutes.  Did he know just what was going on here?”

“Well, he knew somebody had gone out into the country to swipe something for a feast.”

“And it is pretty plain that the sophs became aware of the same fact.  Here is food for reflection, Dismal.”

“You are right.”

The foragers told of their adventures in capturing the turkey, and there was a great deal of laughter over it.  Merriwell showed how near he came to getting shot, and it was universally agreed that he was remarkably lucky.

Harry told how he had bowled the old farmer over just as the man was about to shoot at Frank, and then he convulsed them with laughter by relating the capture of the gun and the chase he had led the hayseed.

Robinson said he thought Harry was crazy when he rushed after the farmer in the way he did.

“I couldn’t understand what sort of a game he was up to,” said Bandy, “and I didn’t feel like following him into the jaws of the lion, so I held aloof.  I saw him fling his club at the old duffer and saw it knock him down.  Then, when I was sure Harry was all right, I legged it.”

“Farmer Baldwin’s dog will have a sore head in the morning,” smiled Frank.  “The last crack I gave him stretched him quivering on the ground.  Hope it didn’t kill the brute.”

“Hope it didn’t?” shouted Little.  “I hope it did!”

“But I don’t want to pay for his old dog.”

“Pay for it!  Are you dopy, daft, or what’s the matter with you?  Why, that man had a spring gun set, and it would have filled you full of shot if you hadn’t tripped!”

“He had a right to set a spring gun in his own shed to protect his turkey roost from marauders.”

The boys stared at Frank in amazement.