“A few details missing, however,” said the General. “However, that will do for to-night. In the morning, if you like, you may be present when I see the prisoner. Good-night!”
CHAPTER VII
THE PRISONER’S STORY
Some three minutes later (so the boys thought), some one shook them awake. It was morning.
“Six o’clock!” said their tormentor, prodding them viciously. It was the driver of their car. “Say, did youse have my monkey wrench?” he demanded of both boys.
“Sure!” said Porky quickly. “Here it is!” He handed out his wrench, while Beany tried to pretend to sleep again. The chauffeur looked it over.
“Naw, that ain’t me wrench,” he declared. “Same size and shape but it ain’t me wrench!”
“Why not?” asked Porky. “One of us took your wrench last night, and if this is the same size and shape, why isn’t it the same wrench?”
“Because it ain’t,” said the man. “That ain’t got the same feel as my wrench. You can’t wish off any strange wrench on this guy! I gotta have me own wrench! If General Pershing is goin’ to let youse kids go stealin’ wrenches, I’ll—I’ll—well, you’ll see what I’ll do, discipline ner no discipline!” He glared at the boys and at the unoffending wrench.
Beany sadly allowed himself to wake up.
“I had your old wrench,” he said, “and I guess I lost it. I will buy you a new one if I can’t find it.”