"It must be empty."
Both boys were fleet of foot, but in the first fifty yards of the race
the man gained on them. It was plain to see that unless something
happened they would soon be outdistanced. Bob realized that the time had
come when chances were to be taken. He raised his father's hickory cane
above his head, whirled it around a couple of times, and sent it spinning
in the direction of the fleeing figure ahead.
The one chance in a hundred was successful. Bob's aim was true and the
heavy stick flew straight to its mark. As the man ran, one end of it
protruded itself between his legs; he was tripped up and, losing his
balance, fell sprawling to the ground. Almost instantly he was on his
feet again, but the delay occasioned by his fall had been almost
sufficient to enable the boys to catch up with him. They were barely two
steps behind him now.
"Tackle him!" shouted Bob.
Like two ends going down the field to get the quarterback who is
receiving the punt Bob and Hugh leaped forward at the same time.
Pages:
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232