The Big Five Motorcycle Boys in Tennessee Wilds | Page 3

which thrilled them through and through, called out:
"Every one of ye hold up yer hands right smart, now! I got ye kivered with me gun, and don't mean to stand for no nonsense. Hold 'em up, I tells yuh. 'Spect we-uns down hyah don't know revenues, w'en we sees 'em? Quick now, er I'll low tuh open up on yuh!"

Chapter II.
ONE BOY WHO MADE GOOD.
"OH! we're up against it already!" exclaimed Hanky Panky, as he hastened to comply with the orders of the unseen disturber of their peace, almost dislocating his arms in the effort to lift them as high as possible.
"Don't shoot, Mister; we give in!" called Josh, who was also apparently doing his best to accomodate; while he twisted his head around, to see what the rest of his companions were about.
Rooster was incapable of uttering a sound, except what seemed to be a deep groan; but that did not prevent him from elevating his hands in the most approved style. And both Rod and Elmer had also complied with the demands of the hidden moonshiner, who had accused them of being government spies; though they looked considerably surprised that he failed to show himself.
It was indeed a queer sight, and no wonder that Josh chuckled aloud when he saw how literally the others had complied with the gruff command.
"Who's that snickering?" suddenly demanded the suspicious Hanky Panky; "By the great horn spoon, it's Josh Whitcomb! Oh I tell you what fellers, he's been and fooled us again with his old ventriloquism. There ain't no moonshiner around at all; and Josh he's gone and made us look like thirty cents!"
At that both Elmer and Rod burst out laughing, which would indicate that they may have suspected something like the truth all along. Rooster just rolled over on his back, and kicked his heels in the air in positive relief; for he had really been shivering with anticipations of something dreadful about to happen.
Hanky Panky made a dash toward the tricky Josh, but the latter easily eluded him, and sought safety behind an adjoining tree, until the righteous indignation of the other had simmered down to mere sarcastic remarks, when he once more ventured to come back to his job of examining the inner workings of his motorcycle.
In times gone by Josh had displayed considerable skill in the art of throwing his voice, and then for a long spell seemed to have given the thing up; but he had been practicing in secret, and acquired such success that he anticipated having considerable fun from this time on, amusing his chums, and creating consternation in the breasts of such ignorant persons as they might run across in the course of their travels.
Now that they had been duly warned, the other boys would not allow themselves to be taken in so easily again. They were apt to keep an eye on Josh whenever they heard a voice, without seeing the speaker. But the amateur ventriloquist secretly promised to make things interesting for Rooster and Hanky Panky from time to time, as he had numerous scores to wipe out.
"I move we dock Josh half his supper because of that scare!" suggested Rooster, now fully recovered; though from time to time he would glance apprehensively about at the darkening woods around them, when he thought none of his comrades might be observing.
"Not much you do!" volunteered the one in question; "I'm hungry enough to fight for my rights. One-fifth is all I claim, and that I'm going to devour. I promise to be good for the rest of to-night, only don't you dare cheat me out of my grub. I'm reformed, you see, and mean to shed all my bad ways after this -- till the next time."
"Like fun you are," jeered Hanky Panky; "when a feller gets going like you are, and playin' hob when the notion strikes him, he never reforms."
"That's all you know, Hanky Panky," spoke up Josh, quickly; "look back a bit and you'll see a shining example of the same right at our door. Remember Gid Collins, don't you; and didn't Rod here make him see the error of his ways? Say, did Gid make good or not, tell me?"
The one addressed shrugged his shoulders, and felt forced to admit that Josh was right.
"But then Gid was an exception to the rule," he grumbled, shaking his head as he continued to watch the coffee-pot, which was beginning to emit strange noises, as if to give due warning that the contents had now reached a point pretty close to the boiling stage, and would have to be plucked quickly off the fire in order to keep the precious amber juice from surging over the top.
"Well, so'm I an exception," remarked Josh, calmly; at which there was a general laugh.
"I'll