She looked at him in a puzzled way. Then her mood changed.
“Do you know, I believe you’re wet. See! You are making puddles on the floor. And I—I’m sort of dampish myself.”
“We’ll have a look about,” said Red.
Fifteen minutes later they returned to the fire. The girl had garbed herself in patched knickers a size too large, and a flaming red jacket. Red wore a mechanic’s coveralls.
And now he said: “Perhaps you will tell me why you screamed.”
* * * * * * * *
But what of Drew Lane and Tom Howe? And who was the one who stood banging on their door at dawn?
You will be surprised when I tell you it was none other than our old friend, Johnny Thompson. Johnny was not in the habit of banging on doors at dawn. At this moment, however, his business was urgent.
“Just saw the Chief,” he panted. “He sent me over hot-foot with a message for you. He says you are to get those kidnapers without delay and return the Red Rover to his squad.”
“That right?” Drew Lane arched his brows. “Didn’t tell you where we’d be likely to find these kidnapers, did he?”