“The next time we go there,” spoke up Fred, “I move that George Sanders be selected to go into the house by the front door. If you remember, fellows, he has always slipped out every time we went there and gone around to the kitchen door.”
“I believe he knows more about it than he has told us yet,” declared John.
“All I know,” said George solemnly, “is that some of the Go Ahead boys have reversed their name. Whenever they pluck up courage enough to go to the old house they always go there with fear and trembling. They walk as if they were traveling to their own funeral, but when they leave they make better time than I ever saw any of them make on the cinder path. I think that we ought to change the name. They aren’t Go Ahead boys any more, they are the Go Backward or the Get Away boys.”
“I notice,” spoke up Grant, “that you didn’t stand very long in the way of your own departure. At least I haven’t noticed yet that you have been very far behind any of us when we ran from the place.”
“Of course you haven’t,” said George. “I have to look after my guests, don’t I? And if they are in such a hurry to leave, it wouldn’t be very polite for me to stay.”
“Don’t leave on our account,” said Fred dryly.
“I guess there isn’t much danger that you wouldn’t any other time,” laughed George. “Perhaps you don’t need any help after all. I was just trying to be polite.”
“It’s too great an effort,” said Fred. “Don’t try it again, but what are you going to do about that stolen car?”
“I’m going ahead,” replied George.
“You certainly have a strange way of doing it then,” retorted Fred. “It seems to me you were going all around it.”