"There, that serves you right, for bothering me, you silly thing!" grumbled Tubby.
The others knew he must be very proud of that shot, and would often refer to it when complaints were made afterward to the effect that he was "slow." Any one who could manage to get his foot in contact with a snapping dog must not be reckoned out of the running.
Just what they would do should they finally reach the small town where Steven Meredith was supposed to be in charge of a large German manufacturing plant, they had not as yet determined. It was Rob's plan to secure possession of that field-glass case by hook or crook, for, if it proved impossible to obtain by fair means, then he meant to try strategy.
For this purpose he had even bought an empty case while in Antwerp which had been carried through all their adventures. It was a new one, for, in making up his plans, Rob may have had in mind the old Arabian story of the magical lamp, and how the cunning schemer managed to get possession of it by going around and offering housewives to exchange new lamps for old ones.
He meant to exchange with Steven, and give him a brand new case for his worn one, should the opportunity arise for such a transfer.
"And once we get our hands on that bit of paper," he had told the others, "we'll shake the dust of this country off our shoes in the biggest hurry ever."
It must have been fully an hour after they left the stable of the village inn when Rob imparted some information to his chums that caused Tubby, at least, more or less apprehension.
"It's about time we were coming to it now," Rob started to say.
"What, already?" remarked Tubby, evidently delighted, for, of course, he foolishly thought it must be the little town they were heading for that Rob meant.
The other quickly undeceived him.