“Seems to be,” and Clancy gave him a sharp look. “Didn’t Merry say he was going to Orton?”
“Oh, you know about it, then?” said the clerk, looking relieved. “Why, yes, the telegram come from Orton, I think he said——”
“What’s the matter with you?” sang out Billy. “There’s no telegraph station at Orton, and you know it! Did he tell you that?”
“Well, he got a telegram, then he started askin’ me about Orton,” returned the clerk. “I didn’t ask no questions, so I don’t know where it come from. He seemed rather fussed, though.”
“There’s something wrong, Clancy,” murmured Billy, leaning over and speaking in a low voice. “It isn’t like Chip to go off like that.”
“No,” agreed Clancy, “that’s not his regular trail at all.”
He turned to the garage proprietor.
“Don’t worry about the car, sir. We’ll do a little inquiring around here, and then start out after it. But whatever loss you incur will be made good.”
“I wouldn’t give a whoop,” explained the man, “only I’d promised the car for this afternoon to another party. Far’s I’m concerned, Merriwell could have the car out all day without payin’ a cent. But I hate to disappoint folks.”
“Well, we’ll see what can be done,” said Clancy. “How far to this place?”