“Nothing, I guess,” conceded Jerry. “We’re out for a good time, and we might as well have it. We’ll stop for grub, fellows, and then we can talk about this meet.”
A run of five minutes more brought them to a small country town called Freedon, where they ran their car under the hotel shed, and were soon arranging for dinner.
While waiting for the meal to be served the boys sat in the hotel lobby, which contained quite a few persons; farmers who had come in on business, or to sell produce, traveling men, and one or two well dressed persons, apparently auto tourists like our heroes.
Two men in particular attracted the attention of Jerry and his chums. They were dark-complexioned chaps, evidently used to being out of doors, and their quiet but expensive clothes betokened that they were well off, or posed as being in that condition.
But it was neither the clothes nor the appearance of the men that attracted the attention of the boys as much as their manner. They sat together, not far from the hotel clerk’s desk, and sharply scrutinized every person in the lobby. Nor did our friends escape observation. The dark, eager, shifting gaze of the two men rested on the boys from time to time, and then darted off toward newcomers.
“Have either of you seen those two men before?” asked Jerry of Ned and Bob, in a low voice.
“No,” replied Bob, who because of his fleshiness was still panting from the exertion of climbing the hotel steps.
“How about you, Ned?”