“Down!” gasped Ned, and both boys flung themselves flat upon the wet ground.
They were not an instant too soon, for a scant ten feet to their right a flashlight beam cut the blackness, blinked rapidly in a succession of flashes, and winked out. At once there followed the jar of a cautious tread as the holder of the electric torch moved slowly away along the grassy roadway.
“Now’s our chance!” breathed Ned, and the boys slid back to crouch among the weeds at the rear of the shanty. Through the brush they could peer down the road toward its entrance, from which direction faint sounds came to their straining ears; but except for an occasional brief flash of an electric bulb they could see nothing.
“This isn’t getting us anywhere,” grumbled Dave. “We can’t see a thing that’s going on!”
“Something is coming into the road. It’ll show up in a minute. Have patience,” urged Ned.
Five minutes passed and then came the soft crunch of wheels on wet grass and a black bulk barely discernible to the eyes of the watchers halted before the door of the cabin, less than ten feet from where they lay.
“What time is it?” growled a heavy voice.
The holder of the electric torch snapped it on and consulted a timepiece. “It’s ten minutes to midnight,” was his gruff reply.
“Cut out the glim!” came the quick growl of command and the light clicked out, but not before its thin beam had disclosed a small auto-truck with canvas top and curtained sides upon which the light glistened wetly.
“Is everything all jake ahead?” asked a third rasping voice from the front seat of the truck. “Curse this weather!” it continued, without waiting for a reply to the question.