There is a sort of road leading out of the orchard and winding around the hill, where the walking is easy, but on that side Bob's Hill itself rises almost straight up from the orchards, and the slope is covered with slippery grass, with now and then a big stone sticking its nose out of the ground. To climb it you have to dig in with the sides and heels of your shoes and work hard. Skinny started straight up and we after him, except Bill, who can climb faster than anybody. He soon was ahead. As Bill neared the top, forgetting all about danger, Skinny gave a warning hiss. Bill looked back; then dropped to the ground and began to crawl slowly up, pulling at the grass and stones to help him along. The rest of us waited to see what would happen to Bill. In a few minutes we saw him stick his head up carefully above the brow of the hill. Then he dodged down out of sight and slid back part way toward us, motioning for us to come on and not to make any noise. I didn't know what to think of it, for I hadn't really supposed anybody would be there. Skinny is 'most always careful that way because, he says, you never can tell what may happen. "Gee!" said he, when Bill motioned. "Didn't I tell you they pretty near had me surrounded? Steady now, and mum's the word!" Slowly we crawled up toward Bill. When we had come up even with him, without a word he crept toward the top of the hill, we crawling along after him, and my heart was pounding like a trip-hammer, partly from the work of climbing and partly because it was scary. Pretty soon we began to hear voices. The eight of us put our heads up at about the same time; then sank down again out of sight, and I heard Skinny whisper, "Jerusalem!" and Bill saying "Great snakes!" to himself. We lay there for a moment, looking at each other and not knowing what to do. Then Benny spoke up. "Come on, fellers," said he. "Who's afraid of them? It's only a lot of girls." That's what it was. About twelve high-school girls were sitting there under a tree, with lunch baskets around, looking at Greylock and waiting for it to be time to eat. There was no way for us to pass without being seen except to go back and around through Plunkett's woods, and we didn't want to do that. "Let's scare 'em," said Skinny at last. "We'll yell the way we did on Greylock that time we scared the wild cat." "It's all right to scare 'em," said Hank, "for they haven't any business on our hill. But a girl ain't a wild cat or anything like it, and you never can tell what she will do. They may not scare worth a cent." "I'll tell you what," I said. "If we all yell, they'll know that it must be the Band. So let's have only one yell. Give Bill a chance and there will be something doing." We left Bill and crawled up to where we could see them and they couldn't see us. Then he commenced.