Meanwhile the discomfited wrestler had scrambled to his feet in the pool of water, and stood for a time up to his waist, sputtering, blowing, and gasping for breath. The boys stood looking on; and Bruce watched him quietly, not knowing whether the struggle would be renewed or not. But the Gaspereaugian did not make any advances towards resuming the conflict. He himself had been foiled so completely in his most desperate efforts, and the tremendous strength of those arms which had raised him in the air and flung him into the pool was so formidable to his imagination, that he was not at all inclined for another trial. The one trial had sufficed. So he slouched off, with his sulky face bent down, and soon joined his crestfallen companions. Scarcely had he joined them than a shout was heard near the camp. Bruce and the other boys turned, and, to their delight and surprise, saw Bart and Solomon, with the basket of provisions. “Hurrah!” cried Arthur; “why, Bart, we were afraid you’d come to grief.” “So we did,” said Bart; “we were captured--we’re escaped prisoners of war.” “Captured! Prisoners of war!” cried Bruce. “Yes,” said Bart. “How?” “About an hour ago we came up and fell into an ambush.” “But how did you manage to get away?” Upon this Bart told them all about it, and his story was received with unbounded delight, and gave rise to no end of fun. What was best was, the fact, not merely that they had escaped, but that they had brought off the basket also in safety. Suddenly Bart looked at his watch. “Brethren of the ‘B. O. W. C.,’” said he, “it’s only sixteen minutes after four. Thus, after so many adventures,--after ambushes, fights, and captivities,--we have succeeded in keeping our appointment, and are not more than sixteen minutes behind time.” Upon this Solomon carried the basket into the camp, and the others followed, and prepared to take their lunch as coolly as if nothing had happened. This was too much for the Gaspereaugians. It was a bitter mortification for them to witness the defeat of their companion; it was equally aggravating to see their prisoners reach their friends, carrying with them their basket; and all this reached its climax when they saw the quiet preparations for a lunch. They stood in that state of mind and body which is expressed by the remarkable word--dumb-foundered. But what could they do? Hostilities did not seem to be very attractive now, for the defeat of their champion had greatly changed the aspect of affairs. To stand there stupidly looking on was also not quite the thing. They had come to indulge in a general triumph over the school--and this was the end! They hesitated for some time, and stood in doubt. But their indecision was at last ended. Their champion walked off silently and sulkily; and they, seeing the leader go, slowly filed away after him. And so-- _Exeunt omnes Gaspereaugienses!_ IX.