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In half an hour the Club were in bed and fast asleep—all except Perk and Bab, who still played away as desperately as ever. Perk came out winner at last, but he was a long time in doing it, and it was twelve o’clock before they were ready to retire. While they were undressing Tom began galloping frantically about the yard (he was as watchful as any dog the boys had ever seen), and a moment afterward one of the hounds set up a dismal howl. This was answered by every dog on the plantation; and then arose a chorus of whines and bays and growls that would have done credit to a small menagerie. While Perk and Bab stood looking at each other, a door opened and closed below, a heavy step sounded in the hall, and Mr. Gaylord’s voice rang out above the tumult.

“Hi! hi!” he shouted. “Hunt him up, fellows! Take hold of him!”

Rex jumped to his feet and barked furiously, and this aroused the slumbering members of the Club, who were out on the door in an instant. They did not ask what the matter was, for they had no difficulty in guessing at the cause of the disturbance.