“Not a bit of it! But why parley? Duncan, you and I can get busy. Those fellows are down there yet, in the road just west of the lane. They’re doing something to their car. That’s twice I’ve run into them fixing it, but I didn’t know them this time. Wash, confound you, were you asleep? Why didn’t you tell me—?”
“Sleep yuse’f! How’s I know—?”
“Cut the comedy! Come on, if you’re sure that was the spies,” Clem said.
“Hold on! You’re not in this and they’ll be there awhile, you can bet,” said Don. “You fellows slipped up in your attempt and this is my job. There’s one way to get those chaps and that only, Duncan. Listen to me—Wash, you get in back and lie low. We two will get in on the front seat. We’ll dim the lights and then go along singing and let on we’re half tipsy until we get right up to them. I’ll stop and ask them for a drink and you turn the bull’s-eye on them and if it’s the spies we’ll act quick; see?”
“I’m going with you,” said Clem.
“Not in my car,” Don retorted. But Clem walked to Don’s ambulance and jumped in.
“We can scrap afterwards, Richards; not now. Come on—three are better than two.”
“That’s so,” asserted Duncan.
The plan was carried out as laid down. With all their science and suspicions those Hun spies had no idea of any such thing being pulled off. Though three half-drunk Yankees were an unusual sight, especially in an ambulance, it was nothing to bother about. To humor them and let them go on was a simple matter.