A sudden whiteness had flashed into Clancy’s face, and he had drawn a quick, rasping breath.
“Nothing,” he answered, turning away, “nothing at all. Much obliged.”
He ran out of the restaurant and started back to the Red Star Garage, greatly excited. Twelve o’clock came booming from the courthouse plaza as he turned into First Avenue from Washington Street.
“It has taken me an hour to find out what I wanted to know,” he murmured. “If there is lawlessness going on, I wonder if we’re too late to stop it? Maybe here’s a chance for Fortune and me to do something for the judge! My guesses may be all wrong, but if they’re right Jimmie and I will have to do some quick work.”
CHAPTER IX.
A WEIRD STATE OF AFFAIRS.
Clancy regained the rear of the garage by the same devious course he had taken in leaving it. All was dark and silent within the little room.
“Jimmie!” he whispered, thrusting his head through the window.
There was no answer, and he repeated the call as loudly as he dared. Still there was no response from Fortune.
“He’s sleeping like a log,” thought Clancy. “I’ll have to get in and give him a shaking.”