Presently the pair of hoboes appeared to have reached the limit of their endurance.  One snatched the dead fowl that had possibly been stolen from some farmyard on their way up from the railroad; while the other hastily gathered the rest of their primitive possessions in his trembling hands.

Then, as another fearful burst of strange cries broke forth from the haunted castle, the two men started wildly on the run.  Faster and faster grew their pace as Monkey blew more furiously on his home-made “goose-call” with telling effect.  As they passed the spot where Hugh and the other three scouts were lying in concealment, the alarmed pair could be heard giving vent to excited remarks, and some strong language as well, though neither of them seemed to possess the nerve to turn his head and look back so as to find out if they were being pursued.

So they went out of sight along the crooked trail they had made in approaching the deserted mansion; though for several minutes afterwards the sound of frequent collisions with trees, and stumbles over hidden vines proclaimed that their panic showed no signs of abating.

CHAPTER III

TAKING POSSESSION

“Don’t all laugh at once,” cautioned the scout master, knowing that an outburst was imminent.

Understanding what was meant, the boys threw themselves down upon the ground and gave way to merriment that was none the less overpowering because it had to be indulged in “with the soft pedal on,” as Arthur artfully expressed it.

While they, were still enjoying themselves in this fashion, Monkey Stallings joined them.  He had a huge grin on his rather odd-looking, face, showing that he felt fully satisfied with his recent fine work.

“Say, did I do the thing up in good style, boys?” he demanded.

“I should say you did, Monkey!” burst out Billy.  “Makes me think of one of Aesop’s fables I used to read ever so long ago, about the lion and the donkey out hunting together.”

“Suppose you tell us about it then,” suggested Arthur, a little wickedly, for he had, in truth, a pretty fair idea concerning its nature.

“Why,” proceeded Billy, hastily, “it seems they discovered a flock of goats in a cave, and the donkey suggested that he disguise himself with an old lion skin they found, and go in to scare the goats out, when the lion standing by the exit could kill the game.  When he had hee-hawed and kicked up such a rumpus that the poor goats dashed out, to meet their fate at the exit, the donkey finally came along and proudly asked the lion what he thought of his antics.  ‘Splendid,’ said the lion, or something like that, and I guess you’d have frightened me, too, if I hadn’t known you were only a donkey!”

Monkey Stallings hardly knew whether that, was intended for a compliment or not, but he laughed because the others did.

“All the same I had the longest pole that knocked down the persimmons,” he asserted.  “I gave that bunch the biggest scare of their lives.  The way is clear for us now, and, thank goodness, we won’t have to sleep under the same roof with that greasy pair of rascals, and, after all; that was the end in view.”