They made all the haste possible. Rob was ready some little time ahead of his comrades. This might be because he mastered his feelings better than either of the others, or else on account of having his possessions so carefully arranged before climbing into bed that he knew exactly where to lay a hand on each and every article in the dark.
Finally Josh, and then Hanky Panky announced that he was all ready to issue forth. Josh doubtless was figuring in his mind just how they might get the precious motorcycles out of the potato cellar unobserved, and ride wildly away before the searching Germans suspected their presence. Hanky Panky on his part would have been almost willing to abandon the wheels rather than risk chances of falling into the hands of the invaders; for he had an idea they might be treated as spies, and dealt with in a summary fashion. The thought of being stood up against a barn and riddled with cruel bullets was uppermost in the boy’s mind.
There was a door leading from the new wing of the farmhouse to the outer air. Rod softly opened this now, and led the way forth, the others trailing after him, confident that Rod would know what line of action was best under the exciting conditions by which they were confronted.
The first natural thing for them to do was to peer carefully around, in expectation of again locating the wandering lights. Then Josh uttered a low gasp, as his fingers plucked at Rod’s sleeve.
“Looky there, will you, Rod?” he whispered, intensely excited; “they’ve run across the potato bin, and are going to take a peep inside!”
“Oh! my stars! it’s all up with our poor wheels then!” Hanky Panky was heard to tell the others, though no one seemed to pay the slightest attention to him.
There was no doubt about the situation being grave. The lights had by this time vanished within the vegetable cellar that had been built underground for frost protection in the cold winters.
“Come; let’s creep forward and see what’s happening,” suggested Rod boldly, as though after all he began to have slight hopes that it might not be quite as bad as they had been thinking.
As they advanced hurriedly they soon began to catch the sound of several voices. Evidently the searchers had been amazed to discover three such splendid motorcycles hidden away in a potato cellar on this farm; this was hardly what they had been looking for when using their lanterns so industriously.
“Too bad, too bad it had to happen!” whimpered the disconsolate Hanky Panky, for he had become so accustomed to spinning along on his reliable machine that the prospect of using “Shank’s mare” as a means of progressing did not appeal to him at all.