"No," was the answer. "But look here. Do either of you recognize this print?" He held out the paper, which was the lower half of a newspaper page. Part of this was devoted to reading matter and the rest to advertisements.
"Why, sure! I know that paper," cried Dick. "See that advertisement of The Russel Department Store and that advertisement of Betts' Shoe Store? That's a part of the Knoxbury Weekly Leader."
"That's just what it is!" ejaculated Sam. "Where did you get that paper, Tom?"
"Found it right here beside the bushes. It looks as if it had been used to wrap something in."
"Then that proves two things," announced Dick, flatly. "One is that the man who stutters was really Blackie Crowden, for who else could have been here with something wrapped in a Knoxbury newspaper? And the other thing is that he did as the stage driver said—left that stage somewhere near here."
"Right you are, Dick," returned his youngest brother, "but that doesn't answer the question—where is he now?"
"I think he got on to the fact that we were in Fernwood, and that it was his business to get out just as quickly as he could," said Tom. "And if that is true it is more than likely that he is a good distance away from here by now and keeping to side roads where he thinks he will not be followed."
"But what brought him to Fernwood in the first place?" questioned Sam.
"Give it up. Of course, he may have friends or relatives here. But I don't know how we are going to find out the truth about that, and what good will it do us if we do?"
A half hour was spent in that vicinity, the boys tramping up and down the road and through the fields and woods looking for some trace of the missing man. Then they returned to Fernwood.