“If I was over home I’d guess the Glorious Fourth had come around, Jack, though it’s generally considerably hotter than we’ve got it here. Do you think that rocket’s got anything to do with this red-fire kite business?”
“A whole lot, I should say, Amos.”
“You mean it was sent up in answer to his signal?”
“To tell him they saw and understood,” replied Jack.
“Then our work was for nothing,” grumbled Amos.
“Oh, I expected that we’d be too late to prevent the mischief,” the ranch boy admitted. “All the same, we had the fun of giving the spy a scare. I reckon he thought a whole regiment of the hated British was on top of him, by the way he scooted out of here.”
“Could you blame him?” demanded Amos. “Why, if it had been me I think that cowboy whoop of yours would have given me a cold chill. I’m pretty sure no German ever heard the equal of it.”
“Thanks. I take that as a compliment,” returned the other laughingly. “We’d better get out of this now.”
“Is there any danger?” asked Amos.
“None that I know of,” Jack told him, “but you never can tell what these Germans will do. That fellow may have discovered a trick was played on him. If he chose to be ugly he might creep back and open fire on us with his automatic.”