He made a dash in the direction of the sound. Beantoe got up and tried to run, but went down again, dragging Spider with him, for the latter’s long legs got tangled up in a garden rake. “Come on!” cried Cap to his brothers after a rush as he stood over the conspirators. “I’ve got ’em both!” They tried to arise, but Cap pushed Beantoe back, and grabbed Spider. He knew it would take the stumbling lad some time to get up, and before he could do so, Pete was on hand, and had made a prisoner of him. “Both of ’em!” exulted Bill, who came up on the run. “What shall we do with ’em?” “Give ’em a dose of their same medicine,” decided Cap grimly. And it was done. When the unfortunate Beantoe and Spider were released from the hands of their enemies they were even sorrier looking objects than were the Smith boys and their chums. For the work of rolling the conspirators in the lampblack and molasses had been thoroughly done, whereas our friends only had some scattered spots on themselves. “Oh, let us go!” begged Beantoe, “we’ll never do anything to you again!” “Yes, please let us go, and we’ll always be your friends forever,” promised Spider eagerly. “Not much you won’t be our friends!” declared Cap. “We wouldn’t let you be friends even with our dog, Waggles. Now, fellows, into the ditch with them, and I guess that will end it.” “Oh, don’t!” wailed Spider. “Please don’t!” begged Beantoe. But no heed was paid to their protests, and into the ditch at the end of the garden they were thrown, from whence they clambered, dripping with slime, and very much chastened in spirit. “But they certainly did put one over us,” admitted Bill, a little later, as he and his brothers and chums were cleaning themselves off as best they could. “Yes, and even though we got back at them, it won’t take the molasses out of our clothes,” said Pete ruefully. “Maybe Mrs. Murdock won’t make a fuss!” observed Bill uneasily, and the housekeeper did, even to the extent of complaining to Mr. Smith. “Now, boys, this practical joke business has got to stop,” said their father, when he heard the story next morning. “Spoiling your clothes is too much.” “But, dad,” objected Cap, “it was Beantoe and Spider who worked it on us. We didn’t do it!” “Well, they wouldn’t have done it if you hadn’t done something to them first.” “No,” protested Bill, “they were mad because the boat trick didn’t work.” “And they tried that scheme on you because of what you did to them at the fire,” remarked Mr. Smith. “No, boys, it must stop; and to make sure of it, I’m going to send you away.” “Send us away?” faltered Cap.