“We were not! Guess the roads are free, aren’t they?”
“Sure they are,” broke in Ned. “But we’ve been up there in the hay, Noddy, ever since you came in. We heard what you said——”
“Say, let me get out of here!” gasped Dolt Haven. “I—I don’t feel very well!”
“Shut up!” ordered Noddy. “You do as I tell you. Get those chains on, Jack. As for you fellows, I’m not going to stand for any more of your insults!” and he glared at the Motor Boys.
“Come off your high horse!” cried Bob. “If I had——”
“Yes, if you had something to eat you’d be fatter than ever, you big chunk of beef!” sneered Noddy. “Why don’t you——”
At this moment there came an interruption in the shape of the farmer in whose barn the two hostile parties had taken shelter. The man, a crabbed tiller of the soil, had seen the two cars enter his building, and, running out from the house through the rain, had broken up the quarrel.
“Hey, what are you tramps doing here?” the farmer demanded. “What right have you here, anyhow?”
“No right, perhaps,” said Jerry quietly. “We only came in to put on our chains before continuing, and——”
“Been smoking, too, haven’t you?” demanded the man, sniffing the air. “I must say that’s a pretty piece of work—smoking in a barn just after I got it filled with hay! I’ll have you arrested—that’s what I’ll do! I’ll have the law on you!”