"But don't you think we ought let scoutmaster see it? Let him have say about it. Don't you think?"
"Perhaps we ought," agreed Glen, who saw clearly that Chick-chick longed for the honor of driving his captured car proudly into camp—an exciting honor which he was not reluctant to share.
"It certainly would be fine if we could make it."
But it was not to be. Daylight was still pretty good, so that they could see a long distance back along the road. And so, when they still had several miles to go, they looked back and saw their nemesis overhauling them.
"That car's coming like fury," observed Glen. "I'll bet it's Jervice and his friends hot after us."
"'Fraid so," sighed Chick-chick. "Gettin' all speed out of the old wagon I can."
"We'd better try to catch Apple and all get on the motor-bike," suggested Glen.
"Can't catch Apple unless he takes notion to turn an' see we want him. Think we can hide, I do."
"Hide the car, too?"
"Hide the car. Saw place on way out. It's less'n mile from here. There's creek pretty near dry, and bridge over it. But there's ford by side of bridge, too. We forded it coming out."