or a chance to give him a thrashing he
would never forget. And the mysterious voice that sounded exactly like
his own, startled him; for, not being a friend of Bobolink's he probably
never heard him give those strange imitations when making his voice
appear to come from some other person.

"I've got hold of the last can, Ted!" he wailed, presently, after much
tugging and another series of wild kicks into space; though he
sometimes bruised his toe by striking it against one of the ash
receptacles near by; "and I'm going to open up now; but please don't
touch me. I never said a word against you, Ted; it must have been the
rats, I guess!"

Bobolink could hardly keep from bursting into a shout at this, for he
knew that poor Bud must be very near a complete breakdown through
fright.

"Here it goes, fellers. Now I'm startin' to tackle the door, if the
varmints will give me half a chance," the intruder called out once more.

He could be heard working away with all his energy at the heavy bar that
secured the door, now and then giving a dismal little squeal, as in
imagination he felt the sharp teeth of a rodent nipping him again
cruelly.

"Oh! there it goes, Ted!" he cried suddenly, as the bar fell on his
feet.

The door swung open, knocking poor Bud over; for there was an immediate
rush of many eager figures. So Ted Slavin led his backers into the
furnace room of the church, where Paul lay secreted behind an ashcan,
flanked by three of his trusty and loyal scouts.

CHAPTER VIII

REPULSING THE ENEMY

"Wow! go slow, fellers!" called the first boy who pushed into the
basement, urged on by the pressure of his comrades in the rear.

"It's as black as a bag of cats, that's what!" exclaimed another, as he
floundered among the ashcans.

"Oh! I'm nearly smothered! Help me out, somebody!" wailed poor Bud, who
managed to receive a full peck of ashes over his head as he scrambled on
the floor.

"A light! Hold up till we get the glim goin'!" called Ted Slavin, who
had after all managed to twist around at the end, so that when the door
finally opened he could push others ahead of him into the unknown depths
of the gloom.

That was often Ted's way. He liked to bluster and rage, but frequently
came out of a scrimmage in far better physical condition than those who
had said less. Some boys can always keep an eye out for the main chance;
and Ted seemed to belong to the number.

Now, the church was usually lighted by