The Young Oarsmen of Lakeview. Stratemeyer Edward

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      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 campfire.

      “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 campfire 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.

      CHAPTER XI.

      OFF FOR HERMIT ISLAND

      It took Jerry and his father some little time to get back their breath sufficiently to leave the woods and make their way to the road.

      “You came in the nick of time, father,” said the lad. “In another five minutes I would have been tarred and feathered.”

      “Tell me about the whole affair, son,” said the old farmer; and Jerry did so.

      “The good-for-nothing rascals!” cried the old farmer. “If they touch you again I’ll have ’em all up before the squire.”

      “That won’t help us, father,” replied Jerry. “They are rich, you know. They would get off somehow.”

      “Then I’ll take it out of their hides.”

      Mr. Upton told how Towser had led the way into the woods. Jerry had always loved the farm dog, but now he thought more of him than ever.

      “Good boy,” he said. “You shall go with us when we take our outing – that is, if father will let you go.”

      “Yes, Jerry, take him along. He may help you out of some more trouble,” replied Mr. Upton.

      It was rather late when they arrived home. Mrs. Upton was shocked to learn of what had occurred, but glad to learn that Jerry had escaped his enemies.

      The next day the young oarsman told Harry Parker and the other boys of his adventure. Harry was very indignant.

      “Those Rockpoint boys ought to be driven out of the state.”

      “I dun racken I’ll carry my hoss pistol after dis,” said Blumpo. “Da don’t cotch dis chile for to tar and feather him!”

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