"But after it gets dark, couldn't we—" Freddy began, and then stopped himself with a negative shake of his head. "No, I guess not."
"Nix is right," Dave said. "After it gets dark they'll all be in their tanks and trucks and armored cars, and on their way. Nope, even pulling the old hitch-hiking stunt wouldn't get us a thing."
Freddy Farmer started to speak, then seemed to change his mind. He closed his mouth and scowled unhappily at the fingers of his two hands digging in the sand. Dave watched him for a moment, then reached over and touched him on the shoulder.
"There is a way, if you're game, Freddy," he said softly.
"I'm jolly well game for anything!" the English youth came right back. "You know that, Dave. What's your plan?"
"We could make them take us prisoners," Dave said.
Freddy's jaw dropped in utter amazement, and his eyes bulged out like marbles on long sticks.
"Make them take us prisoners?" he choked out. "Give up? Are you mad, Dave?"
"No, just maybe a little screwy," Dave replied. "Pin back your ears for a couple of seconds, and listen. If we try to sneak up on them, we run the risk of being shot first, and questioned afterwards. That wouldn't do either of us any good. If we try to tag along behind them as they move northward, who knows what kind of trouble we might run into. So what's left? To go along with them—as their guests. See what I mean?"
"I don't even begin to see," Freddy replied with a befuddled groan. "Frankly, I don't fancy those chaps over there are in the mood to have guests. In fact, I doubt very much they would consider us as guests."