Just at this moment young Bonner noticed that the oil gauge was empty. With a reassuring word to allay Art’s fears he made a sharp bank and glide for the hard and smooth Phillipstown road. While the two boys were bending low over the engine, about five minutes later a call sounded from an apple orchard about a hundred yards away.
“Hey there!” yelled a voice. “Is the show free?”
Art whirled to see a boy standing in an old cider barrel and just about to spring out.
“Sure,” yelled Art. “Always free to our friends.”
At the sound of Art’s voice the struggling boy turned his glance upward again and then thrust his body back into the tight-fitting barrel.
“Who was it?” asked Bonner still busy with the engine.
“Mart Clare, number three,” chuckled Art as he made another note on his chart. “Betrayed by his curiosity.”
Mart apparently did not realize that he was out of the running, for he kept to his stuffy hiding place while the feed pipe was readjusted and the two spies had made a new ascent. It was then three o’clock.
“It’s time to round up,” announced Bonner. “The boys’ll be lookin’ for us.”