Before leaving the room the boys saw that their automatic revolvers and searchlights were in good order. They also made neat packages of the woolen blankets which they found on the bed and carried them away.
“Now,” said Jimmie as they reached a side street and passed swiftly along in the shadow of a row of tall buildings, “we’ve got to get into a cab without attracting any attention, for we’ve stolen the hotel’s blankets, and we can’t talk Spanish, and if a cop should seize us we’d have a good many explanations to make.”
“I don’t think it’s good sense to take the blankets,” Carl objected.
“Aw, you’ll think so when we get a couple of thousand feet up in the air on the Louise!” laughed Jimmie.
After walking perhaps ten minutes, the boys came upon a creaking old cab drawn by a couple of the sorriest-looking horses they had ever seen. The driver, who sat half asleep on the seat, jumped down to the pavement and eyed the boys suspiciously as they requested to be taken out to where the machines had been left.
The lads were expecting a long tussle between the English and the Spanish languages, but the cabman surprised them by answering their request in excellent English.
“So?” exclaimed Jimmie. “You talk United States, too, do you? Where did you come from?”
“You want to go out to the machines, do you?” asked the cabman, without appearing to notice the question.
“That’s where we want to go!” replied Carl.
“What for?” asked the cabman.