“I’ll look things over and see,” said old Gunwagner, replying to Mortimer’s question.
Bob thought the game was all up with him now. He felt much as Tom Flannery did. He, too, “didn’t want to be a detective, no how.”
“There’s no show for me if this old tyrant gets his hands on to me,” said Bob to himself, as he lay cramped up in that dirty box, hardly daring to breathe. “I didn’t think about it comin’ out this way; if I had, I would a’ fixed things with Tom different. Now I suppose he’s gone home, as I told him to, and I can’t look for no help from him or nobody else.”
gunwagner pursuing the boys.
The situation was a depressing one, and it grew more so as the mousing old fence came nearer and nearer to where our young detective lay. He searched high and low for traces of theft, and examined everything with careful scrutiny.
He was now close to Bob’s hiding place.
“He must be hid away here somewhere,” said Felix, with a very anxious look upon his face.
“What makes you think so?” asked the old man, as he noticed young Mortimer’s anxiety.