"Well, well, it pays to be a hero," said Peanut. "Somebody else does the work for you, then."
"Don't worry, it won't happen often, Mr. Modesty," said Frank. "We were too hungry to wait, that's all."
After breakfast they doused their fire, packed up, and went down the road to the Flume House. It was still so early that none of the guests in the old hotel were astir, though servants were about, sweeping the verandas.
Peanut, Art and Rob showed where the rope had been stretched across the road, with a red lantern on it, to stop the escaping motor, and then led the way to the garage. The two watchmen, pistols in hand, were sitting before the door.
"Hello, boys!" the head watchman said. "We still got 'em in there, in the corner room. Sheriff's coming over from Littleton for 'em as soon as he can get here. You'd better not look at 'em—might make 'em unhappy," he added to Peanut, who was trying to look in the high window.
Peanut laughed. "We did rather gum their game, didn't we?"
"You sure did. Here, stand on this chair."
The boys all took a turn looking in the window. What they saw was two men evidently asleep on a blanket on the floor.
"Don't seem to trouble 'em much," said Peanut. "Where's their car?"
