“Let’s take the short cut down the school lane,” suggested Fred, and as this met with general approval they turned off into a lane that led down past the private orchard of Dr. Raymond, the head of the school.
They had not gone more than a hundred yards when Bobby gave an exclamation.
“Look at that big touring car at the side of the road,” he ejaculated, indicating a powerful looking automobile that was standing under the shadow of some trees close to the fence that skirted the orchard.
“What’s it doing there, I wonder,” remarked Fred. “This isn’t a public road, and I never before saw an automobile in it, except the doctor’s own car.”
“Maybe it belongs to some friends who have come to call upon him,” hazarded Shiner.
“Or somebody who switched off into the lane by mistake,” guessed Sparrow.
As the chums drew nearer they could see that the car was empty with the exception of the driver. He was a rough-looking fellow with a coarse, mottled face, shifty eyes and generally uncouth appearance. His cap was drawn down over his low forehead and a half-smoked cigarette dangled loosely from his lips.
“Looks like a tough customer, doesn’t he?” murmured Fred, in a low voice to Mouser, who was next to him.
“He sure does,” returned the latter. “No friends of the doctor would have a fellow like that to drive for them.”
Bobby had given one quick glance at the driver and then his eyes roved over to the orchard. What he saw gave him a start.