It was hung under a farm-wagon, and presently they saw the turnout, drawn by a pair of good-looking horses.

The wagon was filled with barrels of potatoes, and on the seat sat a raw-boned old farmer, half asleep.
"Hello, there!" challenged Jack out of the darkness.

"Hold up a minute, please!" "Hi, what's this, a hold-up ?" exclaimed the old farmer, and then of a sudden he reached between the barrels of potatoes and brought forth a long horse-pistol and pointed it at them.
"Don't shoot!" cried Pepper, thinking the old fellow might be just scared enough to pull the trigger of his ancient weapon.

"This isn't any hold-up." "Who be you ?" and the farmer peered forth anxiously in the darkness.
"We are cadets from Putnam Hall." "Oh! I see! Waal, don't ye try to play no trick on Ezra Cole, or I'll let fly with this hoss-pistol, sure ez you're born!" "We don't want to play any tricks, Mr.Cole," answered Jack.

"We are in trouble, and I was wondering if you could help us out." "Wot's the trouble ?" In as few words as possible the young major and his chums explained the difficulty.