Presently the truck chugged into view, its headlights doused. On the main road, not ten yards from where Salt and Penny crouched, it came to a jerky halt.
The driver was a husky fellow who wore a heavy jacket and cap which shadowed his face. With him in the cab were two younger men of athletic build. Both wore homespun clothes and stout boots.
As the truck halted, the two younger men sprang to the ground.
Instantly Penny and Salt were certain they had seen one of the strangers before.
“He’s the man who drove the accident car this afternoon!” Penny whispered. “The auto stolen from Widow Jones!”
Salt nodded, placing his hand over the girl’s lips. He drew her back behind the tree.
The precaution was a wise one, for a moment later, a flashlight beam played over the spot where they had been standing.
“Thought I heard something!” one of the truckers muttered.
“Jest them frogs a-croakin’,” his companion answered. “You’re gettin’ jumpy.”
“Let’s get a move on!” growled the driver of the truck. “I gotta get this load to Hartwell City before dawn. You keepin’ any of the stuff?”