All the while I was wondering who the auto belonged to. It had a New York license and I didn’t believe it belonged to the burglars.
Poor little Skinny said, “Will we get arrested now?”
Harry said, “No, we’re all going to be heroes now. We’re in the hands of P. Harris.”
“We foiled them,” Pee-wee said.
“That’s what we did,” Harry said. “I guess there wasn’t any third man. I wonder what those crooks thought when they came out with some more stuff and saw that the machine was gone.”
“I bet they were peeved,” I said.
“I bet they had unkind thoughts,” Grove said.
“I bet they swore, but it didn’t do them any good,” Pee-wee shouted, “they were—what-d’ye-call-it—checkmated.”
“You have no right to say that,” Harry said, “there is no reason why a burglar should not be a gentleman. Naturally they were annoyed; any one would be, under the same circumstances.”
When we got to Crystal Falls, Harry ran the car through the street where he had left his own car, and there it was just as we had left it, and there were a lot of people standing around, looking at it. I guess maybe they thought it belonged to the burglars, hey?