“And you tackle them successfully. First, my automobile. Now, my stamps. Very few lads would have made good use of the slim clues you had.”
He drew out his check book and wrote busily for a few minutes.
“As for a reward,” put in Joe, “we didn’t expect anything, Mr. Jefferson. It was fun. And, anyway, you’ve been awfully good to us, letting us have the cabin for our outing——”
“Nonsense!”
Mr. Jefferson swung around in his chair. He gave each of the Hardy boys a check. Then he wrote again for a few minutes and made a similar present to Biff and Chet.
“But this is for two hundred dollars!” exclaimed Frank, in amazement, as he looked at his check.
“And so is mine,” said Joe.
“What of it?” said Mr. Jefferson. “My stamp collection is worth much more than that.”
“But,” stammered Chet, “I didn’t do anything. The Hardy boys deserve any rewards you care to give them, but Biff and I didn’t do much. A hundred dollars, Mr. Jefferson—why, I can’t take it!”
“Neither can I,” added Biff, although he looked longingly at the check Mr. Jefferson had given him. “The Hardy boys deserve all the credit.”