"Oh, fiddle! You dream miracles and talk wonders! And it stops there," Perth exclaimed, but only half seriously. Then, "What you say is all right, Pick, but you won't stand by it." "By the old bean porridge pot, Perth! You're the most contrary monkey I ever saw!" was Pickton's ejaculation. "I'll stand by every word I've said!" But whether he did or whether he didn't subsequent chapters will show. For the present it is essential to state that beside a thick hedge, where the ground was level and the grass deep--and very wet with dew, in consequence--a camping place was found. Not one of the Auto Boys would have chosen such a spot. There was no water near, no trees beneath which the ground would be comparatively dry. The thorns of the hedge, also, where dead branches had fallen, might be encountered just when one least expected them. No, Billy Worth or Phil, Paul or Dave would not have picked this place even in the dark. Pickton and Perth would not have done so either, had they possessed half the knowledge and experience the Auto Boys had gained in matters of this kind. It was eleven o'clock by Freddy Perth's watch. For an hour or more the night air had felt quite cool, in the automobile, and thoughts of warm blankets and sleep were pleasant ones as camp was established at the point described, despite the objectionable features named. Far back in Sagersgrove the town clock was striking the hour. Eli Gouger turned restlessly in his sleep and half awakened. "Might have had two, or maybe four dollars apiece out of 'em just as well as not, if that good-for-nothing Petersby hadn't had to get his dinner 'fore coming with me," he growled, as indeed he had been growling for some time. "Get his dinner! The blamed calf! He's a great one to be a constable, he is!" CHAPTER XI MR. BLACKBEARD, THE GIANT It was with much growling and sleepy sulkiness that Soapy Gaines crawled down from his seat in the Roadster while Pickton and Fred were opening camp equipage and making ready for the night. By the lamps of the car he viewed their labors for a minute or two, drowsily grumbling the while, then putting a light motor robe over his head and shoulders threw himself on the grass heavily. "Ow! Murder! I'm killed!" came frantic screams from young Mr. Gaines the next instant. "Ow! I'm--I'm killed dead!" If "killed" Soapy was, however--to say nothing of his being killed "dead"--his actions were certainly extraordinary. He rolled over and over, then jumped to his feet, again calling out in greatest distress that he was "killed," and ending with the declaration in tones both loud and angry, "Never saw such crazy idiots! Let me jump into thorns a yard long and never say 'Look out!' Somebody'll get it for this, I'll bet, now you see!"