Frank started up the engine, and drove the car back onto the Shore Road. There was not much room in which to turn around, so he drove on down the road for about a quarter of a mile until he came to a lane which offered sufficient space.
Just as he was bringing the car around to head back toward Bayport, the headlights shone on two figures coming up the road. In the glare, the men were clearly revealed.
"There's our friend Gus again," remarked Frank quietly.
He was right. There was no mistaking the surly visage of the ex-farmhand. The man with him was unknown to the boys, but he was no more prepossessing than his companion. Broad of build, unshaven of face, he was not the sort of fellow one would care to meet alone on a dark night.
"Handsome-looking pair," Joe commented.
The car swung out into the road and the two men stepped out into the ditch, turning their faces away. Frank stepped on the accelerator, and the roadster shot ahead.
"This seems to be Gus Montrose's beat," he said, when they had driven beyond hearing distance.
"Wonder what takes him out along here every night."
