"Do you remember the name?"
"He tried the pen on a slip of paper first. It wouldn't work very well. But I think the name was Holtzmann, or something similar."
I determined to remember the name, thinking it might prove of value sometime.
"The thing of it is," broke in Henry Morse, "what has become of this Stumpy? If he stole the Widow Canby's money, it's high time somebody was after him."
"That's true," ejaculated another. "Have you any idea which way the fellow went?"
Of course I had not. Indeed, I was hardly in condition to do any rational thinking, much less form an opinion. The thief might be in hiding close at hand, or he might be miles away.
"Some of us had better make a search," put in another. "Come, boys, we'll spread out and scour the woods."
"That's a good idea," said Tony Parsons, the constable of the town. "Meanwhile, Roger Strong, let us go to Judge Penfold's house and put the case in his hands. He'll get out a warrant, and perhaps a reward."
I thought this was a good idea, and readily assented, first, however, getting one of the boys to promise that he would call at the widow's house and quiet Kate's fears concerning my whereabouts.
It was now early morning, and we had no difficulty in making our way through the woods to the main road.