“Perhaps,” answered Dick. “If they did take to an auto it will be mighty hard to find them.”
Tossing the tramp a quarter, they went on their way, and presently reached Latown, and there hurried to the only garage the place possessed. There they learned that the garage owner had rented a touring car out several days before and it had not yet been returned.
“The fellow who rented it was to pay me ten dollars a day, but I didn’t think he’d keep it so long,” said the man. “He gave me his card.”
“Why, it is my card!” ejaculated Dick, on glancing at the pasteboard. “The nerve of him! Of course it was Sobber—or one of his cronies.”
It was not until nightfall that the boys learned what had become of the touring car. Then they found a boy who had seen the car, with three men and two women in it, speeding towards the Albany road. This lad took them to the very spot where he had seen the car.
“One of the ladies was terribly excited,” said the lad. “When she saw me, she shouted something and then threw one of her hair combs at me. Here is the comb now.”
“It must be Mrs. Stanhope’s,” was Dick’s comment. “She wanted it to be used to trace her by.”
“It is hers,” said Sam. “I remember, she had a pair of them.”
“What did she shout?” asked Dick.
“I couldn’t make out, exactly. It sounded like Boston—but I ain’t sure.”