“Cookies and cream cakes! That’s right!” cried Tubby, “let’s phone the police at Aquebogue to look out for them.”
But the lads found that the wire between Hampton and Aquebogue wasn’t working. The telegraph office was closed. They exchanged blank glances.
“What are we going to do?” demanded Tubby.
“What all good scouts ought to do—the best we can,”—rejoined Rob.
“And that is, under the present circumstances?” questioned Merritt.
“To go to our garage—Blenkinsop’s—on Main Street, and get out the car.”
“It’ll be closed,” rejoined Tubby.
“I’ve got a key,” replied Rob; “I’ll ’phone the house that I’m going for a night spin. We can get there, notify the police, and be back in two hours.”
“Forward, scouts!” ordered Merritt, in sharp, “parade-ground” tones, “and ‘Be Prepared’ for whatever comes along.”
Rob found that the telephone to his home was also out of order, owing to repairs which were being rushed through by night. So ten minutes later, when the car glided out of the garage on Main Street and slipped silently through the sleeping town, there was nobody in Hampton who knew the Boy Scouts’ night mission.