“Well—maybe you are right,” admitted the boy. “Though probably they are harmless folks.”
“They could steal the automobiles,” declared Agnes.
“Now, don’t work yourself up into a conniption fit,” chuckled Neale. “You think everybody you see is an automobile thief.”
“Oh! what’s that?”
The sudden sputtering of an engine was audible. Somebody was trying the starter of the runabout they had left standing in the shade before the barn.
“Fooling with it, of course!” muttered Neale, starting to run.
“They are stealing it!” whispered Agnes, determined to believe the worst.
It seemed as though, on this occasion, Agnes was right. As they dashed around the corner of the stable and reached the open yard, the runabout began to “chug-chug” regularly, and they saw it being steered out of the Higgins premises.
“Hey, there! Stop!” yelled Neale.
“Oh, Neale!” wailed Agnes. “It’s that Saleratus Joe and the ugly man.”