Phil had purposely said nothing of the startling disclosures made by his afternoon’s work, but waited until he and Dick had gone to their bedroom. There, as he undressed and rebound his ankle, he told Dick of the treachery on the part of Simmons.
“I waited until I could come and advise with you on the subject,” said Phil. “I thought at first of going on to Coldenham, when my fall put an end to that, and the best thing to do then seemed to be to come back.”
“I hardly know what to advise,” returned Dick. “I wish that Garry were here, so we could put the matter up to him. I should say, though, that action was needed. Now the sheriff is a sensible man, and so I move that we put it up to him. We can see him in the morning, that is we can if your ankle is better, if not I’ll go alone, and bring him here. Then we can follow his advice.”
“Yes, and there’s one other thing we can have him do. He probably knows how to take a fingerprint and he can take Lafe’s and those of the tramps, and while we are not experts, they are plain enough so that we can tell with a bit of study whether or not they compare with the one on the letter.”
“Well, that’s that, then. I’m going to turn in,” remarked Dick, smothering a yawn.
“Same here. Goodnight,” answered Phil.
They had hardly gotten into bed, however, before there came a knock at their door, and they heard Aunt Abbie.
“There’s a Frenchman just came to the door and says he has a message for you from Garry,” she announced.
“I’ll be right down, tell him,” said Dick, hopping out of bed as he spoke; and reaching for his clothes, started to dress.
Dick dressed hastily and went to the front door. When he opened it, he could see no one, and stepped down onto the walk to look about.