“I don’t want any such reputation!” snapped Billy shortly. “I think I told you so once before, Jack.”
“Geewhilikens!” exclaimed Crane, astonished. “What’s happened to yeou naow? Yeou’ve alwus been red-hot to play the detective, and some folks have begun to say that yeou’re purty clever at it.”
“I haven’t time to explain my reasons for cutting that tommyrot out,” retorted Piper. “Let’s get a move on.”
There were eight boys in the party that set out for Silver Brook Swamp, led by Piper. Striking across the fields, they passed to the south of Turkey Hill and reached the Barville road. The clouds were dispersing and the moon was shining clear and bright when they drew near Silver Brook and came to the old path that led into the swamp.
Phil Springer and Chipper Cooper were disposed to lag behind somewhat, although something seemed to draw them on after the others.
“I’ve been expecting Piper to blow the whole thing any minute,” said Cooper, speaking to Phil in a low tone.
“Wonder why he hasn’t?” speculated Springer. “He sus-swore to us that he would if Shultz or Osgood didn’t own up pup-pretty quick.”
“Guess he’s waiting for what he’d call the psychological moment. You know Pipe’s always great for dramatic effects.”
“There can be only one outcome to this thing now. We’re all in the sus-sus-soup.”
“Billy says it’s our duty to think of Roy, not ourselves.”