“Say,” spoke the former to his companion, “what’s wrong?”
“How wrong?” inquired Mort.
“Why, some way our plans appear to have slipped a cog. There’s the wagon broken down and the boy has gone with the horse. Two of our men were to stop him, you know, and keep him here while we used the wagon.”
“Maybe they’re behind time. What’s the matter with our holding the boy till they come?”
“The very thing,” responded Ike, and, leaving 59 the basket where it was, he and Mort ran after Limpy Joe and the horse.
“Get out of here, quick,” ordered Ralph to Zeph. “If we don’t, we shall probably be carried into the camp of the enemy.”
“Isn’t that just exactly the place that you want to reach?” inquired the farmer boy coolly.
“Not in this way. Out with you, and into the bushes. Don’t delay, Zeph, drop flat, some one else is coming.”
It was a wonder they were not discovered, for almost immediately two men came running towards the spot. They were doubtless the persons Ike Slump had referred to, for they gave a series of signal whistles, responded to by their youthful accomplices, who, a minute later, came into view leading the horse of which Limpy Joe was astride.
“We were late,” panted one of the men.