“I don’t know but what I would have liked to find out something more from him,” remarked Ralph.
“Oh, I overheard the subject of your conversation,” said Adair--“about that missing boy, Glen Palmer, I suppose you mean?”
“Missing--is he missing, Mr. Adair?”
“Since the day after you told me about him, and his grandfather and the queer company he kept,” replied Adair. “I went down to the chicken farm to find that young Palmer had sold it out to a neighbor for a song and had vanished.”
“Why, that is queer,” commented Ralph. “I fancied he had got a new lease of life when I started him in business.”
“Decidedly mysterious, the whole affair,” added the road detective. “That will all come out when we see the superintendent. We’re both due at his office.”
“I was just going there,” said Ralph.
“And I was on my way to meet you,” explained Adair.
They walked on together for a short distance. Suddenly Adair drew out a bulky pocket book well stuffed with papers. He selected a folded yellow sheet.
“Here’s something that belongs to you,” he said. “There’s a good deal to go over, so get that off our minds. Glidden handed it to me this noon.”