"Yes," growled the scowling one. "The long key."
"Bring the prisoners along, Delmar," ordered the chief. "I'll lock up here. We'll come back later for a search."
Out on the sidewalk Phin Drayne plucked up courage enough to find his voice.
"For goodness' sake, let me go, Chief," he begged, falteringly.
"I haven't done anything, although things look against me."
"I guess we'll be able to put things enough against you," retorted the police official mockingly.
"Think of my mother!" pleaded the wild boy. "Think of our family—-one of the most respectable in town. Think of——-"
"Oh, you're enough to make one tired," broke in Dave Darrin, in deep disgust. "You thought of Dick Prescott when you put up the job to have him arrested as a burglar, didn't you?"
"Why, what do you mean? I didn't do anything to Dick Prescott," shouted Drayne angrily, or affecting to be angry.
"Tell that to the marines," quoth Darrin contemptuously. "It was through following on your trail, Drayne, that I discovered the whole trick, and also knew just where to take the police to find you."
An hour later Chief Simmons was well satisfied that he had laid the burglar scare in Gridley.