The Boys of Bellwood School | Page 3

a double hornets' nest. He knew all about hornets and their ways, as did he of all the interesting things in the woods. Frank drew his fishing-pole around and upward, until its willowy end rested against the straw-like strands by which the hornets' nest was attached to the limb.
Very gently he got a hold on the connecting strands of the double nest and detached it from the limb. Then he lowered it, carefully poising it with a swaying motion over the head of the stooping figure of the man.
"Now!" said Frank breathlessly.
Already the disturbed hornets were coming out of the cells in the nest, angrily fluttering about to learn what the matter was. Frank gave the fishing-pole a swing. He slammed its end and the hornets' nest right down on the head of the tramp.
Instantly a swarming myriad of the little insects made the air black about the man. The fellow gave a spring and a yell of pain. Then, his hands wildly beating the air, he darted down the river shore like a shot.
CHAPTER II
THE TINKER BOY
"You had better hurry over here quick, if you want to get away from that man," said Frank, coming out from cover.
"Yes, I will," responded the boy up in the tree.
He threw to the ground a flat stone he had been resting in the crotch of the tree, his only weapon of defense, dropped nimbly down after it, and started for the water.
"Hold on," directed Frank; "there's a crossing plank a little way farther down the stream."
"I'm wet, anyway," explained the boy, dashing into the water, and he came up to Frank, dripping to the waist.
"Don't be scared," said Frank, as his companion looked in a worried way in the direction the tramp had taken. "That fellow will be too busy with those hornets for some time to come, I'm thinking, to mind us."
"Oh, I hope so," said the lad with a shudder. "He's a terrible man. I must get away from here at once."
As he spoke the boy ran to where the wagon stood and climbed upon its front seat. As Frank, keeping up with his pace, neared the vehicle, he noticed across its box top the words: "Saws, knives, scissors and tools sharpened scientifically."
"I wish you would stay with me until I get to town," remarked the boy, seizing the lines with many a timid look back of him.
"Oh, you want to get to town, do you?" observed Frank. "All right, I'll be glad to show you the road."
The boy started up the horse with a sharp snap of the lines. The animal was old and lazy, however, and could not go beyond a very slow trot.
"Turn at that point in the rise," directed Frank, pointing ahead a little distance, "and it will be a shorter cut to town."
"Yes, yes. I want to get away from here," said Ned Foreman anxiously. "Oh, there he is again!"
Frank followed the glance of his frightened companion to observe the tramp in among the brush. He was slapping his face and body as if he had not yet gotten rid of all the hornets, but he was certainly headed in the direction of the wagon.
"Your horse won't go fast enough to keep ahead of that fellow," remarked Frank. "Don't tremble so. He shan't bother you again if I can help it. Keep on driving."
Frank leaped to the road. Keeping up a running pace with the wagon, he stooped twice to pick up two pieces of wood of cudgel shape and size, and then regained his seat.
"Now, then," he said, "drive on as fast as you can. It's less than a quarter of a mile to houses. If that man overtakes us you must help me beat him off. If we can't make it together, I'll pester him and keep him back while you run ahead for help."
"I'd hate to leave you--he's a cruel man," said the lad, "but I've got quite an amount of money, and it doesn't belong to me."
"Aha!" exclaimed Frank suddenly. "There's no need of our doing anything. I'll settle that tramp now."
From the cut in the road ahead they were making for, a light gig had just come into view. On its seat was a single passenger, with a silver badge on the breast of his coat and wearing a gold-braided cap.
"It's Mr. Houston, the town marshal," explained Frank, and his companion uttered a great sigh of relief. "Stop till he passes us. Oh, Mr. Houston," called out Frank to the approaching rig, "there's a man over yonder annoying this boy and trying to rob him."
"Is, eh?" cried the officer. "Whoa!" and he arose in the seat to get a good view of the spot toward which Frank pointed. "I reckon he's seen me, for he's making back his trail licketty-switch."
"Keep