“And you’re a regular boor about it, too,” retorted Ellis, sharply.
“I reckon that’s my business, too, ain’t it?” mocked Hank.
Disgusted with this country bumpkin, as he doubtless considered him, Ellis stalked on again. But Hank had accomplished his purpose. Thereafter Ellis, not suspecting him of anything clever, paid no heed to him.
“Hank is as near all right as, anyone I’ve seen,” chuckled Tom Halstead, who, having crept close for once, behind the shelter of a fringe of sumac bushes, had overheard the talk. “I can trust Jed’s friend.”
Thereafter Halstead did not take the risk of getting too close. He was satisfied with keeping track of Hank only.
After more than another mile had been covered, however, Hank came loping back over the course. Tom stepped aside into the bushes.
“Hsst!” he hailed.
“I knew you’d stop me,” whispered Hank, hauling up short. “And I thought you’d better know what’s going on ahead. Quite a bit down the road there’s an auto hauled up at the side, and a feller in it just signaled the chap you set me to watching. Your feller is hiking forward to meet the goggles in the auto. What do I do now?”
Captain Tom’s hesitation was brief. He would have liked to ask Hank to wait near by, but remembered the fact that young Butts was not in the Delavan confidence. It might be better, on the whole, to send Jed’s friend back to East Hampton.