“Well, by creation? what does this mean?”

The speaker was Mr. Upton, Jerry’s father. He was gazing at the hay-rick, which was coming down the road to the barn at a lively gait.

As the boys who had captured Jerry had thought, the horses had found their way home alone.

Anxiously, Mr. Upton looked around for Jerry, and then he stopped the team and put them up in the barn.

Running into the house he told his wife of the state of affairs. Instantly Mrs. Upton grew alarmed.

“Perhaps they ran away and threw Jerry out!” she cried.

“It ain’t likely they could get away with Jerry,” replied Mr. Upton. “But I allow it is curious.”

A half hour went by, and the farmer determined to start on a hunt for his son. He went off on horseback, and took with him Towser, the farm dog.

Towser was an old and faithful animal, a prime favorite with Jerry, and he trotted along beside the horse as if he knew something was wrong.

“We want to find Jerry, Towser,” said Mr. Upton. “Jerry, Towser, Jerry!”

And the dog wagged his tail as if to say that he understood perfectly.

It was now quite dark. The farmer had brought along a lantern, and this he lit and swung around first on one side of the road and then on the other. As he journeyed along he remembered Jerry’s troubles with the Rockpoint boys.

“Maybe he has had another fight,” he thought. “It was foolish to let him go over there.”

Inside of an hour the other side of the lake was reached, and they struck the lonely road leading into Rockpoint.

As the farmer went on he became more and more sober in mind. He seemed to feel in his mind that something was wrong.

Towser let out a mournful howl.

“Jerry, Towser, Jerry!”

Again the dog howled. Then he came to an unexpected halt and although Farmer Upton went on, the dog refused to budge.

“What is it, Towser?”

For reply the dog started into the bushes, and this at first made the old farmer angry, for he did not understand the dog.

“Come, Towser!” he cried. “We are not after game just now!”

But the dog would not come. He wanted to enter the brush.

At last Mr. Upton went to catch him by the collar, but just as he did so the dog gave a short bark and picked up something from among the bushes.

“Hullo!”

No wonder the old farmer was surprised. The article Towser had discovered was a sling-shot Jerry often carried with him.

“Must have come in here,” mused Farmer Upton.

Then of a sudden he began to examine the ground. It was soft in spots and plainly showed the footmarks of Jerry and the Si Peters crowd.

“He’s in trouble!” said the old farmer to himself. “Maybe some tramps have carried him off and robbed him.”

Urging on the faithful dog, Mr. Upton hurried along the path through the woods, leaving the horse tied to a tree.

It was an uneven way, and he stumbled many times. But he did not mind—his one thought was to reach his son and find out the boy’s condition.

Towser ran ahead, howling dismally at every few yards. But the faithful dog did not lose the scent.

Presently, through the bushes, Farmer Upton caught sight of a distant camp fire.

“Hist!” he called to Towser. “Go slow, now! Down!”

And the dog obeyed and howled no longer.

A hundred yards more were passed, when a loud cry rent the air.

“Help! help!”

It was Jerry’s voice. Si Peters was in the act of applying the first brushful of tar to his back. Utterly helpless, there was nothing left for Jerry to do but to use his lungs.

“Shut up!” cried Si Peters. “Yell again and I’ll hit you in the mouth with the tar.”

“You are an overgrown coward!” retorted Jerry. “Give me a fair show, and I’ll knock you out in short order.”

And again he called for help.

In a rage, Si Peters started to plaster Jerry’s mouth with the hot tar. But ere the brush could descend, Mr. Upton and Towser burst upon the scene.

“Stop, you young scamps!” roared the old farmer. “At ’em, Towser! Chew ’em up!”

Startled at the unexpected interruption, the rowdies fell back. Then Towser leaped forward and caught Si Peters by his trowsers.

“Save me!” yelled Si, in terror. “The dog is going to chew me up!”

“Good, Towser!” returned Jerry. “Hold him fast!”

And Towser did as bidden.

In the meantime Mr. Upton ran after the boys who had been holding Jerry. He caught two of them, and before they knew it, knocked their heads together so forcibly that they saw stars.

Jerry, delighted at the unexpected turn of affairs, turned upon Wash Crosby. Si Peters had dropped the tar brush, and this Jerry secured.

Bang! whack! Crosby received a blow over the head, and one in the ear, which left a big black streak of tar.

“Oh, don’t! please don’t!” he screamed. “Let up, Jerry! It was only a joke! We weren’t really going to tar and feather you!”

Then the fellow ran for his very life.

During this time Si Peters was trying his best to get away from Towser, who held on with a deathlike grip.

Around and around the camp fire the two circled, until Jerry came up.

The youth called off the dog and went at Si in about the same manner as he had treated Wash Crosby.

Si wanted to run for it, and in his hurry rushed through the fire, knocking over the kettle of tar.

The sticky mess emptied itself over his clothing. Then the young oarsman tripped him up, and over he rolled among the loose feathers.

“Now you can see how you like it!” cried Jerry.

And growling and panting for breath, Si Peters ran away after the others.

The Rockpoint rowdies were thoroughly demoralized.