It seemed almost as though Pandemonium must have broken loose in that camp of the Hickory Ridge Boy Scouts, for a dozen pair of sturdy young lungs can make considerable noise once they break loose.
It was a ridiculous spectacle that greeted them as they reached the store tent. The bent-over hickory sapling had sprung obediently erect as soon as the shooting of the trigger had released it from the crotch in which its apex had been gripped. And swaying back and forth, attempting all manner of high gymnastics, was a grotesque figure that stretched out its arms, and made frantic efforts to reach the body of the sapling, so as to climb up.
"Get the bag, Elmer!" cried Mark, the second that he arrived.
But already had the scout leader snatched that article up and prepared to clap it around the struggling monkey, taking care to avoid being caught by those waving hands.
"Quick! the rope!" he gasped, after he had made a forward movement, enclosing the gyrating body in the stout sack.
Mark knew what he was doing, and in a brief time, during which the rest of the boys stood around watching in wonder, the struggling monkey was secured.
"Here, Toby, hold this rope end for a minute!" called Mark.
The other was only too willing to obey, for it gave him a chance to say he had had a hand in the great capture of the hairy thief. Ten seconds later there was a sudden brilliant flash that caused some of the scouts to cry out, in the belief that a storm had crept upon them, with the lightning giving advance warning of its coming.
"It's Mark, and he took a snap flashlight picture of the crowd standing around in pajamas!" cried Lil Artha. "Oh! my, what a sight that will be to chase away the blues. If only my red stripes show, I'll be the happy one."
"How about the first flash--did it go off when the monk pulled the trigger, Mark?" demanded Elmer.
"Sure it did," broke in Tom Cropsey, who had been one of the sentries on duty at the time; "and gave me a nasty scare. I never dreamed you had fixed things up that way, Elmer; and at first I thought something had exploded. But what can we do with the critter, now that we've got him?"
"Oh! that's all fixed," laughed Mark. "Elmer made a stout collar which can be fastened around his neck so he just can't get it off. To that a rope is fastened, and Mr. Diablo will amuse the camp with his stunts the rest of the time we stay up here on old Lake Solitude. Ready to work it, Elmer?"