“Four of ’em,” Pant chuckled. “Fine chance we’d have had against ’em!”
“They’re waving at us,” said Johnny, after a glance over his shoulder.
“Let ’em wave. Think we’re green, I guess. Expect us to come right back and play things into their hands. Be a car or something along here to-day or to-morrow, sure. Won’t hurt ’em to eat dust awhile. That’s the job they meant to give us, all right.”
Ten miles farther on they stopped for lunch. As Johnny drew the lunch-box from beneath the back seat, he noticed a long, slim leather case lying on the floor of the car. As he picked it up, he was astonished at the weight of it.
“What’s this, Pant?” he asked in a surprised tone.
“That? Why that”—Pant seemed unduly excited—“that’s a little emergency case I always carry with me.”
He put out his hand for it, and having it, at once fastened it to his belt beneath his jacket.
“Emergency case?” thought Johnny. “I wonder what kind.” But as usual he asked no questions.
He was destined to remember that case and the unusual circumstances of the burning car many days later.