“Why—what——” said the astonished Rob.
“Sh! Don’t ask now. Robbers. We’ve got to give warning.”
“Let me go, too,” Rob whispered, trying to rise.
Art pushed him down. “We’ve got to hook on behind an auto. There’d not be room. You stay here, and keep the camp quiet.”
Rob lay back, a little too sleepy quite to realize what he was letting the two younger Scouts in for, and they slipped out of camp again. This time they went down the brook, walking in the water so they would make no sound of breaking bushes, and came out into the road two rods below the motor. Then they stole on tiptoe, hardly daring to breathe, close up behind. As the rear lamp was not lighted, they felt softly with their hands to see if there was anything to ride on. Luckily, there was a trunk rack—empty! Straps across it made a rough kind of seat, just large enough to hold them.
“We can’t get on yet—not till they start,” whispered Art. “It would shake the springs.”
The men were still talking, and the boys crouched behind the car, in silence, waiting for them to start. It seemed to Peanut as if his heart beats must be heard, they were so loud in his breast.
Suddenly they heard a rustle and crack in the bushes almost beside them.
“What’s that?” said one of the men, sharply.
“Oh, a rabbit, or something,” the other replied. “There ain’t a house anywhere ’round here. Don’t be a goat.”