“Isn’t he a brick?” demanded Bobby gratefully.
“Reminds me of the bread cast upon the waters that our minister was talking about last Sunday,” remarked Mouser. “He said it would come back to you after many days, and by ginger I believe it now.”
“It’s more than bread,” gloated Pee Wee. “It’s cake.”
“If Pee Wee says it’s cake, it is cake,” mocked Fred. “There’s nobody knows more than he does about things to eat.”
They were now all as full of good spirits as they had formerly been full of misery. They had found that their cloud had a silver lining. In fact there was not a cloud any longer. It had broken away entirely.
Their satisfaction was still greater when, a few minutes later, they saw two sleighs sweep past the station and take the direction that led toward the cabin in the woods. There were three determined-looking men in each sleigh, and among them they recognized the stalwart figure of Mr. Stone.
“They’re after them already,” cried Fred joyfully. “Gee whiz, Tommy! your father is some hustler.”
“He sure is,” assented Tommy proudly.
“Here’s hoping that they catch the thieves!” exclaimed Mouser.
“Wouldn’t it be bully!” cried Bobby. “I sure am crazy to get back my watch.”