“Well, let’s hear about it,” said the officer somewhat wearily, for there had been several cases of raids on this march.
Thereupon Mr. Martin told his story of having been informed by Kennedy of the alleged intentions of the motor boys. And he told of having seen them slide down from his haymow, one of them bearing unmistakable evidence of eggs on his person.
“I know it looks queer,” said Ned.
“It certainly does,” agreed the captain, grimly.
But he was a just man and he listened to the boys’ story. He seemed somewhat surprised at the mention of the crooked-nosed man, but he made no comment, and when all was said he gave his judgment.
It was to the effect that as the boys had affirmed on their honor as soldiers and gentlemen that they were telling the truth, he could not but believe them. At the same time it was evident that they had done some slight damage, and had put the farmer to some inconvenience in bringing them back to camp, and it was only fair that they should pay. Having already offered to make payment, they were very willing to do this.
So the incident was ended, and the farmer, convinced that he was in the right, and jingling in his pocket a good price for the broken eggs, went back to his home.
So, much to their regret, the boys lost trace of Crooked Nose, or Jim Waydell, as the farmer had called him. They could not look for the suspect again that night, and the next morning they had to march away with their comrades.
“But when we get back to camp we’ll take a day or so off on furlough and come back here and see if we can land him,” declared Bob. “We’re not sure enough of his identity, on such casual glances, to cause his arrest on mere information. We’ve got to get him ourselves and find out more about him.”
“We’re with you!” said Jerry, heartily.