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I had expected to find you in a car. What was the idea of the motorcycle?" "It was Chief Fleck's suggestion. The Hoffs will be motoring. People in a car seldom pay any attention to motorcyclists. If we were to follow them in a motor they'd surely notice it. Last week they managed to dodge the people the Chief assigned to trail them. Maybe as two dusty motorcyclists we'll have better luck."
Oh, Janet, what a perfectly ripping night do see!" They leaned together on the window-sill, silenced by the white and shining beauty that had turned the pleasant garden into a place of magic and enchantment. The corners of Janet's mouth lifted suddenly. How absurd people were! The fat Hodges boy and his motorcycle!
Rackliff looked still more weary. "I detest the thing," he said. "Come, old chap " "I've got only money enough for my own fare," said Roy. "You'll find riding my motorcycle better than walking." "That's right," sighed Herbert resignedly. "I'll take it." Phil Springer returned to Oakdale in a wretched frame of mind.
"He's coming to," said Bluff after Frank had sprinkled the scratched face with some of the cold water. There was a deep sigh, then Frank saw that the fellow's eyes had opened, and were surveying him with a troubled stare. "Feeling better, Hank?" he asked quietly. "Oh, I'm all right, I reckon. What brought you fellows here? Where am I, anyhow? Did I just drop off that motorcycle? No.
Gordon, his Uncle Dick, for whom he would do far more than this. "Can't go, Ed," he said briefly and finally. "Sorry, but it isn't to be thought of. Betty and I have a job cut out for us right here." The lad on the motorcycle had no time to waste in arguing. He was eager to get to the scene of excitement, and if Bob chose to throw up a chance to see a spectacular fire, why, that was his business.
I tell you any ordinary troop of Boy Scouts has more snap than the Woodbridge Fire Department. I believe By Jove, fellows. I've an idea! Let's organize a fire department of our own. A motorcycle fire department. I was reading in a magazine only the other day how they started one over in England somewhere. How about it?" "Bully how's it done?" demanded Bud Weir, leader of the Blue Heron Patrol.
The motorcycle owned by, or in charge of, Jimmie also showed a similar mark, and this, too, was photographed. This completed, Ned laid the films aside for a time while he made a circuit of the old house, walking slowly as if out for chest exercise, but really seeing every square inch of the earth's surface where he walked.
"We'll hit the Landing in two hours, at the longest, Miss Janice," declared Nelson Haley. "Keep your head down. This wind cuts like needles. Too bad you haven't a mask of some kind." He was wearing his motorcycle goggles, while Marty had one of those plush caps, that pull down all around one's face so that nothing but the eyes peer out, and was doing very well.
With Ivan still holding Rika, they hurried up the steps just as the soldier on the motorcycle whirled to the curb. He leaped from his seat and followed them, talking furiously in German, but the boys were so close to the open door that they slipped inside before the man could lay a hand on them.
In truth, that very morning Bruce had gone on a motorcycle trip to St. Cloud City, twelve miles south of Woodbridge, to buy the necessary decorations. "By Jove, she looks like a real fire fighter, doesn't she?" said Romper Ryan, backing off, paint brush still in hand, to survey his own handiwork on the sides of "Old Nanc."
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