"You!" Rap shouted angrily. "This is no time for loafing!"
"I agreed to drive a truck, but I didn't say I'd deface tires and help with your thieving!" the boy retorted bitterly. "I'm sick and tired of the whole deal."
"Oh, so you're sick and tired of it, are you?" the other echoed sarcastically. "You're in this the same as the rest of us, and if we go to the pen, you go with us! Now get to work or I'll——"
He left the threat unsaid, for just then an automobile engine was heard outside the building. Everyone froze in an attitude of listening. Molberg dropped his tools and ran to peer out through a tiny peep-hole in the wall.
"It's all right," he said in relief. "It's the boss. He must have burned up the road getting here from Somm Center."
The wide doors were flung open and a high-powered motor car drove into the building. George Brunner alighted.
"There's no time to waste," he informed tersely. "Load up those wheels and get them out of here!"
"We haven't finished defacing the numbers," Molberg told him.
"We can't stop for that. The important thing is to get this place cleared of evidence before the police pounce down on us."
Quickly the wheels which had been unloaded were stacked back into the truck. Brunner turned sharply upon Jerry Barrows.