“No, he couldn’t have. I was standing right beside the door and it never opened, I’m sure. He must have come around the corner of the building and snapped a flashlight on me.”
“The motor car,” murmured Cavvy to himself. “It was just as I thought.”
Instead of passing, the car must have stopped and the man made his way to the house unperceived by the waiting Ferris and Ritter. For a moment Cavvy considered the possibility of hunting up that car and driving back in it to town. Then he realized that still another member of the gang might have been left in it, and abandoned the idea. While he was still lamenting the necessity of this, they pushed through a final fringe of bushes and stepped out on the road.
“There’s nothing else but to hoof it back to town,” he said in a low tone. “We ought— Listen!”
They both held their breath and in the ensuing silence they heard the throbbing of a motor, growing rapidly louder and more distinct.
“It’s a car coming!” exclaimed McBride excitedly. “Do you suppose Rit and Champ could have—”
He broke off abruptly as a flash of light suddenly illumined the mist. Brighter it grew and brighter still. Then all at once two brilliant headlights popped into view and behind them another pair.
“Guess we’ll take a chance,” muttered Cavanaugh.
He stepped out in the middle of the road and held up both hands. His figure stood out clearly in the glare of the approaching lamps and presently, with a jarring grind of brakes, the foremost car slowed down and came to a standstill a few feet away.
“We’ve got ’em, Cavvy,” shrilled Ritter’s voice from the depths of the tonneau. “A farmer down the road drove us to town and we found—”