"I'll get the car," said Hen, and was off like a flash.
They lifted the Weasel into the car and laid him back on the cushions; the boys rolled up the rugs, and their coats to prop him up. Again he opened his eyes.
"Don't start," he said feebly. "I must tell you something."
He turned his head toward Beany. "I know you," he said. "What made you leave the Wolf and the little chap? I saw you tracking them. You ought to have kept right after them."
"That was my brother," explained Beany. "We look just alike."
He kept a careful hand on the wound.
"Let's get to a hospital," said Hen.
"Don't you move!" commanded the Weasel. "If you want to save that kid, the one with the Wolf, you have about half an hour to do it in. Don't mind me. He has done for me. I knew he'd get me, but I will bite yet. Tell him that, will you? Tell him the Weasel has bitten; bitten to the bone. Lift me a little," he asked, then continued brokenly:
"The Wolf is head of a system of spies in America. They have headquarters in Mexico, St. Louis and 'Frisco, as well as here. The Wolf is the head; he is master of them all. I don't know who he is. Nobody knows. They all call him Excellency or the Wolf. He has a submarine-base laid out on the coast of Long Island. There is a powerful wireless station in the attic of the house where we meet. That's where he has gone with that kid. He'll kill that kid. I know him! He is all ready to leave the country. That's why he did for me. He wants to shut us all up before he leaves—I'll fix him—I told him I'd bite."
He stopped, and breathed heavily.
"I'm going to drive lickity-split for the hospital," said Hen in a low tone to Beany.