CHAPTER XVIII.
FERNALD COMES.
"Tell us all about it," demanded Phil.
"All in good time," responded Garry. "First thing to do now is to put a bit of distance between us and that house. Don't want any of that gang to come and find us snooping around. Everything has gone as slick as a whistle so far, and we don't want any foolish oversight to queer it. I move we make a break for town and hive in somewhere and wait for daylight. Of course we can go to Everett's house, but we shouldn't bust in on him in the middle of the night. He's a sick man, you know."
"Wonder where we can go and talk things over," asked Dick. "I suppose we could go and duck in the woods a ways and build a bit of a fire, for it seems a bit chilly."
"There's one place we can go and never be bothered. That's down to the station. It never opens till six o'clock. I inquired of the agent when we arrived; didn't know but what the information might come in useful some time. Besides, there's a bench in front where we can sit and gas away without anyone hearing us. Then just before six we can hike to Everett's house, so that he won't be raising a rescue party."
All this conversation took place as the boys were walking. In a short time they had arrived at the station. The fitful gleam of an oil lamp on a bracket over the bench was the only light, although in a short time, now, the first light of early dawn would begin to break.
The weary boys threw themselves on the bench, while Garry proceeded to give an account of his night's venture. The chums listened with breathless interest as he told of the developments, and held their breath as Garry told of the dangerous business of getting out of the room with the man there on the bed.
"Gosh," said Dick, "I'd have given a good bit to be in on that. Strikes me that you and Phil have had all the fun out of this proposition."