Callie looked up and, recognizing the boys, ran over toward them.
"That awful man!" she wailed, even before they had time to ask her what the matter was. "He ran right over my parcel and smashed nearly all the cakes and jelly I was bringing to Mrs. Wills!"
And with that she held out the torn parcel. Frank knew that Callie, who was a generous and good-hearted girl, had been in the habit of taking little delicacies to a widow, Mrs. Wills, who lived just on the outskirts of Bayport.
Now he saw that the parcel had been smashed so that only one glass of jelly and a few of the cakes had been left intact.
"What man, Callie?" he asked. "What happened?"
"He ran right over my parcel!" Just then Callie spied Chet Morton, and she pouted at him. "He was a friend of yours, too, Chet Morton, for he was driving your car!"
"My car!" gasped Chet.
"Your yellow roadster. He came driving along this road at such a terrible speed that I was frightened and I dropped my parcel. Then he ran right over it."
"Why, Callie, that's just the fellow we've been looking for!" said Frank quickly. "Chet's car has been stolen!"
"Well, whoever stole it, came by here not ten minutes ago," said the girl. "And he's a madman—by the way he was driving."