“What did we do?” Grove wanted to know.
“Who committed this murder? It wasn’t any of us,” I said.
Harry just sat there with his arms on the wheel, looking around and waiting for that car to catch up with us, and laughing.
“I wish Brent was here,” he said; “I think we’re going to have some fun. This is right in his line.”
CHAPTER XXVII—WE ARE CAUGHT
There were three men in that car and as soon as they caught up with us, I knew they were sheriffs or detectives or something like that, on account of their being big and kind of bossy looking.
They got out and came up to our car and one of them said, very loud and gruff, “What are you doing with that car?”
“Why, we’re just sitting in it laughing,” Harry said. “Here’s another; why is a Ford like a poisonous snake? Give it up? Because it has a rattle. Let’s tell some more.”
“Who was that you throwed out of this car?” the man shouted right in Harry’s face. All the while the other two men were down in the ditch looking for the dummy. I guess it must have gone down in the water, anyway, they couldn’t find it.
Harry said, “Oh, that was really your fault; should be more careful when you shoot at random. That was a very famous personage—Mr. R. T. Sandbanks.”