"Why, hello! Paul! I didn't hear you ring. Did you fly in through the window?"
Jack sprang up from the easy chair he had been occupying in the library of his own home, when his chum suddenly appeared before him.
It was about ten o'clock on the morning following the hunt for the lost boy; and the remarkable occurrences that had accompanied it up in the woods above Stanhope.
"Oh! you know I told you I might slip in by the back door this time; and that is just what I did," replied Paul, speaking in an unusually guarded tone.
"That's a fact!" exclaimed Jack, beginning to show signs of excitement; "and I remember that at the same time you promised—"
"I'd try my best to solve the puzzle about those disappearing old coins, and tell you to-day," said his chum, breaking in. "Well, perhaps I may, though my most promising clue has turned out a bit of a fizzle."
"But you have another up your sleeve, you said?" continued Jack, eagerly.
"Yes, I believe I have," Paul admitted. "Some time later, when we get this queer affair off our hands, I want to talk with you about a lot of things connected with this scout movement. I got some good ideas from a bunch of papers left at our house for me. Guess who remembered us in such a bully way?"
"Give it up. I might mention every gentleman in town, and then some," laughed Jack; "for they're all watching what we're doing, with interest. But go on and tell me who it was, Paul."
"Mr. Peleg Growdy," came the surprising answer.