“Well, you see, I got a leetle bit old for that job—or else the boys got a leetle bit too frisky fer me, so I looked around fer something else that was a bit more quiet; and as my cousin owned this garage, and he was too sick to tend to business, I come out here and took hold—and here I be.”
“It’s like a touch of old times, Horsehair!” cried Dave, as he dropped on a chair, while Roger did the same. And then after a few more words about their former doings at Oak Hall our hero continued: “I am after some information, and I know you’ll give it to me if you possibly can. Have you noticed during the past couple of weeks a big touring-car around here—a car that has one of the mud-guards badly smashed, and the wind-shield cracked, and a good deal scratched up?”
“Sure, I know that car,” answered Horsehair readily. “The feller that runs it was in here to git some new batteries, and also some gas and oil.”
“Was he smoking cigarettes?” questioned Roger.
“He was—one right after another. But I told him not to smoke while I was pourin’ in the gasoline. I don’t want to go up to heaven jest yet;” and Horsehair chuckled over his little joke.
“Have you any idea where that fellow came from or where he went to?” questioned Dave. “I might as well tell you, Horsehair, it is of great importance. We suspect that fellow of some serious crimes.”
“You don’t say, Porter! What did he do—steal that machine? Oh, I know them auto thieves is all over. They told me only last week a car was stole in and around Boston ’most every day.”
“Never mind what the fellow is guilty of, Horsehair. What we want to do is to find him, and then you’ll know all about it.”
“Well, I don’t know where he come from, but after he got fixed up here he turned off in the direction of Cullomburg.”
“Do you know what make of car it was?”