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The Banner Boy Scouts - Or, The Struggle for Leadership by George A. Warren
page 69 of 258 (26%)
Morrison was the kind o' man to encourage practical jokes on anybody,"
grumbled the old man, plainly at a loss to understand what was meant.

"Well, he isn't, and I'd be sorry to have him know I was guilty of such
a thing. But you're barking up the wrong tree, Mr. Growdy, I give you my
word we none of us had any trick in mind when we came here to-night."

"Then what took you in my dooryard here; for I heard a pack runnin' away
when I kim out of the house? Tell me that, Paul," insisted the farmer;
but the hand that held that cruel looking whip had fallen to his side,
which was a good sign.

"I'll be only too glad to do so if you let me up. Tie my hands, my legs
too if you want, sir; but I'm getting dizzy from having my head below
my heels."

Peleg stooped still closer. He again held the lantern down so that he
could look into the face of his prisoner; after which he did something
that Paul had hardly expected--bent over, seized the rope connected with
the laden hogshead, and pulling hard succeeded in casting the loop that
had just encircled Paul's ankles, over a post of the fence.

"Get up, Paul!" he said, grimly, yet with a flicker of curiosity in his
wrinkled face; as though a dim suspicion that there might be something
out of the ordinary back of this, had begun to take possession of his
mind.

Paul regained his feet, a little wobbly to be sure, for he had
experienced a bad fall, and his head felt rather tender where it had
come in contact with the hard ground.
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