“That’s all right,” laughed Dick. “You are a constant surprise to me. I am all the time finding out the things you can do. Don’t mind that fellow Herring. Honestly, I feel safer with you at the wheel than if I were driving myself.”
“I have had to do some pretty awkward driving. You know the Hudson River hills? We have some hard ones up my way and I have driven a car down them without an accident.”
“There’s where your cool head comes in. I wish I had it.”
They whizzed around one sharp turn and another, down steep grades and along level stretches at a rapid pace, going smoothly, however, and with never a jar or a jolt and reached the little station in an incredibly short time, Percival being delighted at the masterly manner in which his companion had handled the car.
There was a knot of men and boys around the station and the agent was telling the story of the robbery of the night before for the fiftieth time.
“Anything new, Jones?” asked Percival.
“Not much. There’s a lot of stamps missing and a package of registered mail what I hadn’t opened. I can’t tell what was in it. Maybe much and maybe little. The fellows went over the creek by the bridge and on, ’stead of coming back as folks said. Guess they knew where they was going. Smart fellows them.”
“Did you see them plain enough to know them again?”
“Guess I did, one of ’em, anyhow. He had a big white mustache and black eyebrows and hair. Guess his mask must have dropped off.”
“How many were there in the car?” and then Dick saw that Jack seemed greatly agitated about something and stopped short.