"I am Miss Agatha Middleton Mitts, of Oldham Towers," said the maiden lady heatedly. "And I—"
"Going to show your license or not? If you haven't one—"
"Oh, yes, I've got a license. But I want you to understand—"
"Let me see it, quick. You are holding up traffic."
"Well, it's outrageous, anyway," sighed Miss Mitts. But she had to rummage through her bag for the card and show it. Then she drove on, threatening all sorts of punishment to all the troopers in sight.
Drawn by the hope of earning the rewards offered for the apprehension of the thieves and recovery of the missing cars, a number of amateur detectives went scouting around the adjoining townships, harassing innocent farmers who had already been badgered and pestered into a state of exasperation by the officials. The Dodd family, in particular, suffered from these attentions. The Hardy boys and Chet Morton dropped in to see Jack Dodd and found him sitting disconsolately on top of the barnyard fence.
"It's bad enough to have detectives and troopers coming around and asking us to account for every minute of our time since we were let out on bail," said Jack; "but when nosey people come prying and prowling around, it's a little too much."
"You're not the only ones," consoled Frank. "Every farmer around Bayport has been chasing sleuths off the grounds all day."
"They keep popping up from behind the woodshed and under fences, like jack rabbits," said Jack, with a grin. "I suppose it would be funny if we hadn't gone through so much trouble already. One chap sat up in an apple tree half the morning watching the house. He thought we couldn't see him. I suppose he expects to catch us driving a stolen car into the barn."
"Is he there yet?" asked Chet.