“Hurry up or we’ll miss the fun!” cried Ned to Bob, who was cranking the auto. Somehow, Chunky could not get the engine started. At last he succeeded and the boys climbed to their seats.
“It’s my turn to steer!” cried Jerry, and no one disputed him. He ran the car out of the side path, past the Baker home. On the stoop stood Mr. Slade, Mrs. Hopkins and Mr. Baker, watching the fire.
“Want to come along?” asked Ned.
“Let’s go,” exclaimed Mr. Slade, and he and Mr. Baker got their hats and were soon in the rear seat with Ned. Mrs. Hopkins, with a laugh, declined the trip. Jerry speeded the car ahead and soon was chugging on toward the fire, which was some distance outside of town.
On the road the automobilists passed scores of men and boys who were running at top speed. In their excitement many were yelling at the top of their voices.
“Where is it?” asked Bob of a group of boys.
“The old windmill!” was the answer.
“The place where we found the box Noddy Nixon stole from Mr. Judson!” cried Jerry, turning to his companions. “Queer, isn’t it?”
“Maybe he got his toady, Jack Pender, to set the place afire so nothing would ever come out about it,” suggested Bob.
“Hardly,” ventured Jerry. “But what’s the trouble up ahead?”