“All right,” responded Nelson, with a laugh. “Any place out of here!”
“How do we go?” Dan asked.
“Straight ahead and turn to the left about four blocks down,” was the reply. So straight ahead they went, and allowed no grass to grow under their feet. When they had almost reached their turning they heard a great noise behind, and paused to see what it was. Down the street trotted the two Mannig coaches filled with their exultant passengers. The Mannig war whoop aroused the echoes of the almost deserted town.
“The umpire’s called the game,” chuckled Dan.
When the first coach was abreast of them they were recognized and loudly cheered. They waved their hands in response while the occupants of the coaches showered unintelligible messages upon them. But as the second load went by, one remark met their ears which they understood. Fultz, beaming and red of face, leaned far out over the side, made a megaphone of his hands, and shouted:
“You fellows had better get out of here pretty quick!”
Dan winked merrily.
“Trust us!” he shouted back.
The fire bell which had been ringing incessantly for ten minutes stopped suddenly as the Four turned from the main street and smelled the salt air from the ocean. In ten minutes they were well out of Laurelville, and slackened their pace.
“What’ll happen?” asked Tom. “When they find out, I mean.”