This he fastened to the severed ends of the
wire, binding the whole as neatly as a lineman could have done.
"Rubber is believed to be a pretty good insulator," chuckled Reade, as he
finished. "I don't believe the spark is made that can jump three inches
of rubber. Certainly magneto-power can't do it. Now, let me see what sort
of a trail-concealer I am."
Tom laid the wire back in the ground, covering it carefully with his hands.
"I wish I dared strike a match, so that I could judge better just how my
work looks," he sighed. "However, I don't believe Mr. Sambo Ebony will
think it discreet to strike any matches either, so he won't find the place
where I've been fooling with his work.
"Now, I'll get back out of sight, where I belong," muttered Tom, rising
cautiously. "I hope, though, I can find a place where I can see the look
on that darkey's face when he tries his magneto and waits for the bing!
from out yonder. Oh, Sambo, you simply can't have any idea of how I've
been wishing it on you tonight!"
As the bushes grew thickly hereabouts, and there were many hollows in the
surface of the earth, Reade had little trouble in finding what he believed
to be a satisfactory hiding place.
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