“Don’t try to be funny,” implored Agnes. “Where were your eyes? That was the man we saw the last time with Saleratus Joe, when they passed us in that strange automobile,” declared the girl earnestly.
“No?” gasped Neale.
“Yes, it was. I could never forget his ugly face. He is the very man, I believe, who helped Joe steal Mr. Collinger’s car.”
Neale wagged his head. “Whether he is one of the thieves or not, he’s a bad man all right. You can see that,” the boy agreed. “I wonder if we ought to hunt up Sheriff Keech?” But they were a long way from the residence of the sheriff whose acquaintance they had previously made.
That night the touring party stopped with the blacksmith and his wife. The Shepards had not returned to this neighborhood, and the Corner House party did not wish to waste any time. They were to make a long detour from this point before going back to Milton. They desired to see a part of the country altogether strange to them.
“Shall we go around by the Higgins farm again?”
That was the query Neale O’Neil propounded before bedtime that evening after they had eaten another of “Mother’s” wonderful suppers.
“I don’t really see the use,” Mrs. Heard said. “I haven’t heard a word from Philly Collinger about it. And I told him everything that Gypsy told you, Neale.”
“And how Neale hunted in the barn and found no trace of Mr. Collinger’s car?” suggested Ruth.
“Oh, yes.”