“Who made you a call? Not likely,” McCarthey laughed. “Little those birds fear the radio. They’re too quick. No radio will ever stop ’em. They’re like the army transports during the war that were too fast for the submarines.
“This last sheet,” he added, “I have saved for gentlemen who, on other occasions, have had their gentle business of robbing, burglarizing, bombing, safe-blowing and the like interfered with. From time to time I will enter the names here of those who show undue resentment to the radio activities of the police.
“And that, boys,” he concluded, once more shuffling his sheaf of papers, “appears to bring the case to date. These are the facts. Draw your own conclusions.”
“Conclusions!” Johnny said as he left the office. “I only conclude that I was slugged; that my telephone was smashed; and that my head still is very sore.”
“Give him time,” said Drew. “He seldom fails. In the meantime, we must do our bit.”
CHAPTER X
A ROYAL FEAST
That evening at nine o’clock Johnny was given a delightful surprise. At the same time some of the questions that had been revolving about in his mind like six squirrels in one cage were solved.
He had returned to the shack at six. Weary from his exciting day, he had stretched himself out on his cot and had at once fallen asleep.
Awakened by someone entering the room, and startled by the darkness that had settled upon the place since he fell asleep, he was about to cry out in alarm when the place was flooded with light and he found Drew Lane smiling down upon him.
“Have a good rest?” he asked.