“We’re going to take a short-cut to the state road,” Pee-wee answered, “because that’ll surely be the road they’ll take.”
“Why will it?” the reasonable Emerson asked.
“Because it will be. We’re going to lie in ambush along the road just where it leaves town where we can see every car that comes along. Do you know where Lanky Betts keeps his frankfurter stand in the summer? We’re going to hang out there. That little shack is open,” Pee-wee panted as they ran, “and we can wait inside of it because the door is broken and we can get in and it’ll be all right because I know Lanky because I buy lots of frankfurters from him when the shack is open and root beer too—you get great big ice cream cones there.”
Emerson was not too hopeful of a triumphant sequel to their midnight excursion into the detective field; he felt that it was a long call between the rather unconclusive information of the broadcaster and the actual halting of the criminals in this neighborhood. But the mention of frankfurters touched a responsive chord in his nature, for the night was chill and raw and even the lowly frankfurter appealed to him.
“It’s a pity we can’t get something to eat there now,” he observed.
“We’re not supposed to be thinking of eats now,” panted our hero.
This was rather odd, coming from Pee-wee.
CHAPTER XXXV
“DANGER”
“I didn’t tell you all I’m going to do,” said Pee-wee darkly. “I didn’t tell you all the plans I have.”
This rather startling pronouncement prompted Emerson to say, “You’d better tell me the worst.”