"What's that?" shouted the trooper, a broad-shouldered young chap. "A car stolen?"
"Yes, sir. We were chasing it. A big Cadillac."
"Didn't see it," replied the trooper. "It didn't pass this way, I'm sure of that. We've just found one stolen car, anyway."
"I tell you I didn't steal it!" declared Mr. Dodd heatedly. "I haven't the least idea how that car got there."
"That's all right," interposed one of the other men gruffly. "You can tell that to the judge. The fact is, we've found the car behind your barn and it's one of the cars that were stolen in the past couple of weeks."
The chums glanced questioningly at Jack Dodd.
"These men are detectives," he said, in a low voice. "They came out from the city with the trooper a little while ago."
"Did they really find a stolen car here?" asked Chet.
Jack nodded.
"They found one all right, but how on earth it got here, I don't know. It's a Packard and somebody must have driven it in and left it among the bushes behind the barn. We never noticed it."