“What will you do with your motorcycle?” asked Ned, thinking he could “stump” the constable.
“Oh, I’ll jest hide it here in the bushes,” replied the man with a grin. Evidently he was well pleased with himself at having made such a haul. “I’m all ready for you automobile fellers these days,” he continued. “I can hide my wheel where no one will see it. Then, when the court proceedings are over, you will have to bring me back here, and I’ll get my machine.”
“Suppose we refuse?” asked Bob, who saw visions of a late, if not an altogether postponed, supper.
“Oh, I guess you won’t dare refuse to obey an order of the court,” said Mr. Hedden. “I’ve got you right, an’ the less trouble you make, the better off you’ll be.”
“All right,” agreed Jerry, with an ease that surprised his chums. “Put your machine in the bushes, and get in.”
“No monkey-business, now mind!” stipulated the constable. “If I catch you tryin’ to run away from me, it’ll go hard with you!”
Jerry said nothing, but there was a faint smile around his mouth, as he watched the constable carefully place the motor cycle in the bushes, where it was well out of sight. Then, as Mr. Hedden came back, the tall lad got out of the car, and began jacking up one of the front wheels, raising it, however, only a little way from the ground.
“What’s the matter?” asked Ned, quickly.
“Keep still, and you’ll see,” answered Jerry. Then, when the constable came out of the bushes that official asked, in some surprise: