Boy, was it ever pouring outside! I got up and went to the window. I don’t know—maybe, half awake and half asleep as I was, I expected to see the bushes floating around. Or even the barn.
A hundred electric generators were sending out lightning flashes. One after another. So it was easy for me, and for Poppy, too, who stood beside me, to see the flooded world below.
Suddenly the other caught his breath. He had seen something!
“Jerry!” he pointed. “Look down there by that big bush. No, more to the right. What do you see?”
“A man,” I breathed.
The leader then began to jerk on his clothes. And I knew without being told that he was going out in the storm to learn, if possible, who the spy was.
That’s old Poppy for you! Every time! And do I ever love that kid for his wonderful grit. He’s one pal in a million.
CHAPTER VI
THE “GHOST” IN THE KITCHEN
“Now,” says Poppy, when he was dressed, “you wait here at the window. I’ll go out the back way, taking the door key with me. And to play safe, I’ll circle to the front road. You may not see me at first. But don’t let that fuss you. Give me ten minutes and I’ll be there.”
I felt sort of calfy in the separation—as though he was giving me the soft end.