“I don’t see that we have learned more than we knew before,” remarked Alvin disgustedly; “what do you suppose they have covered up in that wagon?”
“I have no idea,” replied Chester.
“Let’s folly the team till it gets back to Bovil or wherever the same may be going. Better still,” added Mike, “we can slip up behind, lift the lid, and get a peep at the cratur himself.”
“How do you know what it may be?”
“I don’t, which is why I want to find out, and the same is thrue of yersilves.”
They gave over the plan for more than one reason. There was no saying how many miles they would have to tramp, and they could not go far without being discovered by the men. Then the situation, to say the least, would become embarrassing.
“I have the belief that we are near the solution,” said Alvin, “and we can afford to wait a day or two longer. We have several miles ahead and may as well place them behind us before nightfall. Come on.”
Good taste suggested that having called upon Dr. Spellman so recently they should pass him by on their return to the bungalow. This was done and they reached home without further incident.
Meanwhile, the wagon with its mysterious load was lurching and plunging over the primitive road, the three men on the front seat retaining their places with no little difficulty, but they were used to such traveling and no mishap followed.
Shortly after reaching the smoother highway, Bige Carter with another laugh exclaimed: