“That shot went over our heads,” I said, “they didn’t mean to hit us.”
Harry said, “No, but they meant to scare us and make us stop; I wonder what we’re up against now.”
All of a sudden a thought popped into my head. “Hurry up,” I said to Grove; “let’s throw Ragtime Sandbanks out and they’ll think they killed him. Throw him out so he’ll go down that bank beside the road—quick!”
In about a jiffy out went our old college chum, Ragtime Sandbanks sprawling kerflop on the edge of the road and kerplunk down into the ditch where there was water running.
“So long, old pal!” I shouted after him; “you died in a good cause.”
“Victim of an assassin,” Pee-wee said.
“He landed in the water,” Grove said.
“How can you land in water?” Pee-wee wanted to know, all the while craning his neck out of the car. “He sank,” he shouted; “I don’t see him.”
“End of The Cowboy’s Revenge,” Harry said; “what do you suppose will be the next act in this interesting comedy?”
“I think we’re pinched,” I said.