"Oh, we'll never get there on time," groaned Andy.
"We'll be lucky if we get there at all to-night," answered the young major.
"They are looking for us by now," came from Pepper. "Wonder what they will think when we don't show up?"
"They'll think we are pretty mean, I guess," answered the acrobatic youth.
"Here comes some kind of a turnout now!" cried Pepper.
He pointed down the highway. They could see a lantern swinging idly to and fro. It was hung under a farm-wagon, and presently they saw the turnout, drawn by a pair of good-looking horses. The wagon was filled with barrels of potatoes, and on the seat sat a raw-boned old farmer, half asleep.
"Hello, there!" challenged Jack out of the darkness. "Hold up a minute, please!"
"Hi, what's this, a hold-up?" exclaimed the old farmer, and then of a sudden he reached between the barrels of potatoes and brought forth a long horse-pistol and pointed it at them.
"Don't shoot!" cried Pepper, thinking the old fellow might be just scared enough to pull the trigger of his ancient weapon. "This isn't any hold-up."
"Who be you?" and the farmer peered forth anxiously in the darkness.