"Belongs to one of the crowd—man named Japson. It's an old country home that was in his family for years. He don't live there, but it's furnished, I understand."
The boys said no more, but as soon as the chauffeur was paid, they set off through the rain. It was a disagreeable journey, and but little was said. All wondered what would be best to do when they reached the place for which they were bound.
"I wish we had the sheriff and his posse with us, as we had when we rounded up those rascals at Plankville," said Tom.
"Or if we only had John Slater's shotgun," added Sam.
"Never mind. As I understand it, we are three to three," said Dick. "And we can arm ourselves with heavy sticks," which they presently proceeded to do, tearing up some bushes for that purpose.
It was not long before they came in sight of a long, high hedge. Back of it was a white house, surrounded by numerous old trees. Over the trees showed the top of an old wind mill, used for pumping water from a driven well.
"Think we had better go right up to the door and knock?" asked Sam, as they halted at the edge of the hedge.
"No, I think we had better spy around a little at first," answered his big brother.
All crawled through a gap in the hedge and, skulking from tree to tree, gradually neared the house. Near one of the windows grew some bushes, and they crept along to these. Then Dick looked through the window.
He saw Pelter and Japson seated at a table, going over some legal papers. Nobody else was visible.