They reached the gate together, but that was as far as they got,
for just as they arrived at it they collided with a large man who
was running toward the house. He was so large that the combined
impact of Bob and Ted against him never staggered him, but it
almost threw them off their feet. They were running, head down,
and had not seen him.

"Hold hard there, my hearties!" exclaimed the man in a gruff but
not unpleasant voice. "What are you trying to cross my bows for in
this fashion? That's no way to run, not showing a masthead light
or even blowing a whistle. Avast and belay! You might have sunk
me if I didn't happen to be a heavier craft than you."

As the man spoke he instinctively grasped the two boys, preventing
them from continuing their flight.

"What's the trouble?" he went on. "I heard a female
crying--sounding a distress signal like. Where are the burglars?
Are you going for the police?"

"No, sir. It was us, playing tic-tac," explained Bob, thinking it
best to make a clean breast of the affair.

"Tic-tac, eh? I haven't heard that since I was a boy. On whose
window?"

"The Widow Mooney's, sir."

"And it was the widow, I presume, who was signaling for aid. Well,
I'll stand by and see what's wanted. You'd better come back also."