“Fifteen miles or less. The roads ain’t none too good, but it ain’t a long ride at all. The car was in good shape, too.”
“H’m!” grunted Clan. “Mighty funny if it’d take a car five hours for that! But he might have had a breakdown somewhere. It’d be a good play to run out and take a look at Orton, Billy.”
“Better look at that telegram first, Clan.”
“Huh? Why?”
“Because we might learn something.”
“Where’s the office here?”
“At the depot. But I’d bet you thirteen thousand dollars and fifty cents that we’ll find there hasn’t been any message for Chip received.”
“Say, what’s got into you?” queried Clancy. “Too much chicken pie?”
“Oh, you know same’s I do, only you won’t say it,” sniffed Billy forebodingly. “It’s foul play, Clan. Merry has helped me, and those Carsons are getting even with him, that’s what it is!”
“Well, I’m beginning to think so myself, all right,” said Clan soberly. “Only I didn’t want to scare you out.”