A QUEER FIND.
Had the boys been a minute later in casting loose, there would certainly have been trouble—and perhaps they would not have been able to get away at all.
Whistler, who was well in advance of the others, strained every nerve to reach the car, but the Hawk was well in the air before he reached the spot where it had been moored. Neither he, nor any of those with him, seemed to be armed. No shots were fired, and Whistler shook his fist upward and shouted maledictions.
"Py chiminy," whooped Carl, "ve'll led him vistle some. He ought to be good at dot."
Swiftly the clearing vanished behind the Hawk, and the tops of the trees soon hid it entirely.
Carl drew a long breath.
"I vas nefer so habby ofer anyt'ing as I vas to ged avay from dot blace," he averred. "Der olt voman vas pad meticine, und ve vas lucky dot ve vas aple to ged avay ad all."
"Avast there, matey!" answered Dick. "Yamousa tried to be a friend of ours."
"I don'd like friendts vat iss so spookish," went on Carl, kicking the cat's skull off the front of the car and watching it tumble into the green tree tops below. "Dere iss all kindts oof drouples come oof sooch pitzness."
"She said she looked into the smoke and saw Whistler and those other fellows coming," muttered Dick.