"Are they trying to scuttle that red craft, Matt?" asked Ferral.
"No," was the reply, "they're just going to run it out of the barn to make room for the other car. I told them I'd attend to it."
"And when you get the car out of the barn," said Sercomb pointedly, "just keep going, all of you."
"We'll do that to the king's taste," averred Ferral. "I wouldn't hang around here with you and your outfit for a bushel of sovs, Sercomb, although I'm coming back after my roll."
"Come on, fellows," called Sercomb, and left the barn with his friends at his heels.
Matt got the Red Flier in shape, Carl climbed into the tonneau and Ferral into the front seat, and they moved out of the barn.
As they passed around the house they saw Mings sitting in the other car, evidently watching it to make sure it would not be tampered with. He scowled at the Red Flier as it passed.
"Dey like us a heap—I don'd t'ink," chuckled Carl. "I bed you dot Mings feller iss vone oof der chumps vat come indo der room lasht nighdt, Verral."
"He don't like me any too well," said Ferral grimly. "And he's none too easy in his mind, either. He knows what I can do to him for that Lamy business."
"Are you really going to get an officer in Lamy and come back here?" asked Matt.