This was too much for Joey's composure.
"We came here with Mortlake to do a little job fer him guv'ner," he
sputtered out.
"Oh, you did, eh? Well, what was the nature of that employment?"
"To disable one of them flying machines."
"Which one?"
"One that belonged to the Prescott kids. Mortlake said he'd make it worth
our while--and--no, you can't stop me, Slim--and then when we couldn't
find the machine we was to bust up he turned us loose without a cent of
the money he promised us. We was broke, and----"
"And so you thought you'd replenish your pockets by holding up some
automobilist or traveller, eh? Humph, you're a nice pair."
"You ain't goin' ter give us up guv'ner? I told you the honest truth,
guv'ner. Didn't I, Slim?"
"Yep," was the grunted reply; "and now Mister What's-Yer-Name, what are
you going ter do with us?"
"I'm going to take you on a trip," was the astonishing reply.
"On a trip, guv'ner," stammered Joey, all his fears lively once more.
"Yes, on a trip."
The younger members of this strange roadside party stepped forward. As
they advanced into the glare of the detached headlight, Joey and his
companions saw them. Both men turned away and seemed much embarrassed.
"What are you going to do, Mr. Bell?" asked Peggy, eagerly. The mining
man's manner had become almost mysterious.
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