“And don’t try any more such tricks,” advised the officer. “You may not get off so easy the next time.”
“You’re gentlemen, both of you,” declared Ben, glad enough that he had escaped delay and embarrassment.
Our hero debated for sometime as to his wisest course of progress. His father was in no special hurry for the screws. The trail of the man he had traced to the second-hand shop was fresh. Ben felt sure that the man in the gig knew a good deal that might be of value to his father in his dealings with Saxton.
“I’ll take another look at that store, anyhow,” concluded Ben, and a brisk walk soon brought him into its vicinity.
“The gig is gone, so the driver is probably not in the place,” he decided.
Ben walked slowly past the store. He glanced in at the open door. A rough looking, poorly dressed man was sorting over some tools. Ben saw no one else in the place.
“I’ll make a bold break,” he reflected, and entered the store.
“What do you want?” demanded the apparent proprietor of the place, turning around at the sound of intruding footsteps.
“Why, I was looking for some one, mister.”
“Well, who is it?”