Even by the longer route, Littleton, nearly forty miles distant, might have been reached before dark; but to attract the least possible notice they lingered in little frequented roads, and ran quietly into the Yorkshire House garage and stable just after sundown. So was the car, laden down with the evidences of an extensive expedition, and well calculated to attract much notice, housed for the night.
The three boys believed they had been observed by not one person likely to mention having seen them—at least to anyone from whom, directly or indirectly, the Trio would obtain intelligence of their movements. They told Phil as much, and with evident satisfaction, when they met him upon his arrival by suburban trolley car, later in the evening.—And now another day had come. The Auto Boys were in the best of spirits as they left the lately risen sun and Littleton in their rear.
"'Westward the Star of Empire takes its way,'" quoted Billy Worth, waving his cap zestfully, as the automobile bowled smoothly along, MacLester at the wheel.
"Takes its Way and also its Worth, and MacLester and Jones," shouted Paul, with that expansive grin which never failed to bring a smile from any sort of person disposed to be half-way good-natured.
"Say, Jones, they've hung people out in the Ship woods country for horse-stealing, and that's hardly a misdemeanor compared to such downright atrocities as you perpetrate! Goodness! That was bad!" declared Dave. He always did like to have a fling at Paul. "The best pun is horrible, but a poor one!—"
"What did you say about the 'breast bone' Mac?" shouted Jones, from the tonneau, with admirable pretense of having caught but two words and caught neither of those correctly, as the car whizzed forward. Then, almost without pause, "Yes, I like the white meat, too!" he sang out.
"White meat? Don't mention it! I'm positively starving," Worth put in, and in a twinkling the whole conversation changed to the subject of the noonday lunch and what the car's larder afforded. Paul's hearing improved very greatly, at once, by the way.
"Why, we have a cheese-box full of cold ham and buns and baked beans and pickles and a cake and cheese and pie and—" Jones enumerated; then MacLester, quickly going forward with the inventory, as Paul paused for breath, added:
"Sardines, bananas, olives and potato chips, and I'll bet half the stuff will spoil on our hands."
"Risk it!" Phil Way observed in the tone of one who speaks from experience. And somewhat later when a halt was made for luncheon, weighty evidence was presented that if any risk whatever existed it was extremely slight. The very hour appropriated to a noonday purpose was strong testimony—not yet eleven o'clock. However, breakfast had been extremely early, it will be remembered.