ted policemen approaching, with bright
stars shining on their breasts.

"Let 's get out of this," he whispered to Fred and Charley.

The gang had already taken to flight, and they blocked the boys' retreat
in one quarter, and in another they saw the policemen advancing. So they
took to their heels in the direction of Brick Simpson's slip, the policemen
hot after them and yelling bravely for them to halt.

But young feet are nimble, and young feet when frightened become something
more than nimble, and the boys were first over the fence and plunging
wildly through a maze of back yards. They soon found that the policemen
were discreet. Evidently they had had experiences in slips, and they were
satisfied to give over the chase at the first fence.

No street-lamps shed their light here, and the boys blundered along
through the blackness with their hearts in their mouths. In one yard,
filled with mountains of crates and fruit-boxes, they were lost for a
quarter of an hour. Feel and quest about as they would, they encountered
nothing but endless heaps of boxes. From this wilderness they finally
emerged by way of a shed roof, only to fall into another yard, cumbered
with countless empty chicken-coops.

Farther on they came upon the contrivance which had soaked Brick Simpson's
pursuers with water. It was a cunning arrangement. Where the slip led
through a fence with a board missing, a long slat was so arranged that
the ignorant wayfarer could not fail to strike against it. This slat
was the spring of the trap. A light touch upon it was sufficient to
disconnect a heavy stone from a barrel perched overhead and nicely
balanced. The disconnecting of the stone permitted the barrel to turn
over and spill its contents on the one beneath who touched the slat.

The boys examined the arrangement with keen appreciation. Luckily for
them, the barrel was overturned, or they too would have received a
ducking, for Joe, who was in advance, had blundered against the slat.

"I wonder if this is Simpson's back yard?" he queried softly.

"It must be," Fred concluded, "or else the back yard of some member
of his gang."

Charley put his hands warningly on both their arms.

"Hist! What 's that?" he whispered.

They crouched down on the ground. Not far away was the sound of some
one moving about. Then they heard a noise of falling water, as from
a faucet into a bucket. This was followed by steps boldly approaching.
They crouched lower, brea