CHAPTER IX
Rival Detectives
“MAYBE,” Frank said with a grin, “Dad will take us into his camp when he sees these!”
“Just a minute,” Joe spoke up. “I thought we were rivals now, and you and I have to solve this mystery alone to earn the reward.”
Frank held up a man’s battered felt hat and an old jacket. “If these belong to that thief, I think we’ve earned the money already!”
He felt through the pockets of the jacket, but they were empty. “No clue here,” he said.
“This hat has a label, though-New York City store,” said Joe.
“And the coat, too,” Frank added. “Same shop. Well, one thing is sure. If they do belong to the thief, he never meant to leave them. The labels are a dead giveaway.”
“He must have been frightened off,” Joe concluded. “Maybe when he found that Chet’s jalopy was gone, he felt he’d better scram, and forgot the coat and hat.”
“What I’d like to know,” Frank said, “is whether some hairs from that red wig may be in the hat.”