“Let me look over it again,” Frank remarked; and upon his chum pushing the fragment of newspaper in his hand, he studied it as he walked on.
“I’m glad of one thing,” he remarked, presently, when Lanky thought he could not stand the suspense much longer. “They give the gentleman’s home address here, which is a lucky thing for us.”
“Chuck that, Frank, and tell me what you mean,” Lanky pleaded.
“Why, you’ve got to communicate with this Mr. Elverson right away, and ask him if his little girl, who was carried away by a crazy or revengeful nurse, months ago, wore a little bonnet made of lace and silk, and decorated with a pale blue ribbon.”
“Wow! all that is going to take a few good plunks to pay the expense, if you mean I must telegraph it!” exclaimed Lanky.
“I’ll help you out, if you’re short, and you ought to know that,” Frank immediately declared; “and my father would back me to any extent, I’m dead sure. This begins to look as though there might be something in it; and if that child is being held there in that gypsy camp against her will, she must be taken away from them.”
“Hurrah! that sounds good to me, Frank!” cried the delighted Lanky, pleased beyond measure to learn that his cautious chum had finally decided to come over to his side of the fence.
“And the sooner we go about that part of the business the better. I’ve got some money with me, and if we need more I know where to go for it, Lanky.”
“That’s the idea!” declared the tall lad; “nothing like striking while the iron is hot, as we used to learn in our copybooks in school, when we were kids. Let’s head for the station right now, then, Frank, and see if we can’t hatch up a message that ought to give this Mr. Elverson the shock of his life.”
Ten minutes later two boys, breathing hard from fast walking, appeared at the little railroad station in Columbia, and asked for a bunch of telegraph blanks.