we are? Fools? Run you back to the Crossing in a pig's eye. You'll foot
it back if you get there, er come with us. We ain't gonta get caught
with this car on our hands. What we gonta do with it anyhow, when we
get crost the state line?"

"Why, you run it into the field off behind that row of alders. Sam's
got a man on the lookout. They'll have that little old car so she won't
recognize her best friend before you can count three, so you should
worry. And you'll run me back or you won't get the dough. See?
_I'll_ see to that. Pat said I wasn't to run no risks fer not
bein' back in time. Now, shift that guy's feet out on my shoulder.
Handle him quick. Nope, he won't wake up fer two hours yet. I give him
plenty of dope. Got them bracelets tight on his feet? All right now.
He's some hefty bird, ain't he?"

They moved away in the direction of the building, carrying a long dark
shape between them, and Billy breathless in the bushes, watched,
turning rapid plans in his mind. Here he was in the midst of an
automobile getaway! Many the time he had gone with Mark and the Chief
of Police on a still hunt for car thieves, but this time he was of the
party. His loyal young heart boiled hot with rage, and he determined to
do what he could single-handed to stem the tide of crime. Just what he
was going to do he was undetermined. One, thing was certain, he must
get the number of that license tag. He looked toward the house.

The group had paused with their burden at the door and Pat had turned
on his pocket flash light for just an instant as they fumbled with an
ancient lock. In that instant the whole front of the old stone house
was lit up clearly, and Billy gasped. The _haunted house!_ The
house on the far mountain where a man had murdered his brother and then