While the men were talking Jack and the two girls had moved closer to the upset car to inspect it.
“Oh, look, Jack!” whispered Ruth, suddenly. “What is that running from it? Is it the gasoline?”
“I don’t think so.” The young major made a closer inspection and began to sniff the air. “It’s liquor. These fellows are carrying hooch.”
“Oh, did you ever!” murmured Martha, in horror, for she had never had any use for liquor in any form.
“Say, you get away from that car!” burst out Bill Ferguson, in sudden alarm. “Get away from there, I say!”
“They are carrying liquor. The car is loaded with it, Uncle Sam!” cried Jack.
“Yes; and they have both been drinking,” answered his uncle quickly. He turned to the two men. “If you want to make a police affair of this, I’m willing,” he continued sternly. “But I’ll tell you right now, you’ll make a poor showing in a police court.”
“Oh, call it off! Call it off, Ferguson!” interposed Billings, as good-naturedly as ever. “I ain’t making no kick, and half the cargo belongs to me at that. Do you want us to get in bad around here? Call it off, I tell you!”
“I ain’t goin’ to have this car busted up for nothin’,” grumbled Ferguson. “However,” he added hastily, “I suppose I’ll have to let it pass. We ain’t got any witnesses against you.”