“Try to, then.”
Both boys now went a bit in advance of the officer, but he kept close to them, in order to be on hand if they ran into any danger.
The ravine proved to be empty, however. Tom pointed out where he had slashed Joe’s bonds away. “And over yonder,” he added, “I guess I can show you the rope I worked my own wrists out of. Once I worked my hands free it didn’t take me long to cut away the rest of the tackle.”
Though they searched for upwards of an hour, they were unable to find any further trace of the scoundrels. Nor did they come upon any place that looked as though it had been used as a hiding place for the missing Dunstan heir.
Then a loud honking from the road recalled them. The chauffeur was there with the machine, from which were alighting four deputies whom he had brought out with him from Wood’s Hole.
“I’m going to leave you men here to carry on the search,” explained Mr. Jennison. “Keep it up all through the night, and through the daylight, too, if you run across anything that looks like a trail. These young men will describe to you the fellows you’re expected to find. I’ll be back bye and bye, but don’t wait for me.”
Tom and Joe quickly described the three fugitives from justice. Then Jennison turned to the chauffeur to inquire:
“Could you work any information out of that black man?”
“Not a word,” came the grumbling reply. “After a few minutes he got over being so scared, but he couldn’t be made to say a word about his crowd. Just closed his mouth, and wouldn’t talk. Musgrave has him in hand now, at the station house, but not a word can the fellow be made to say.”
“I’m going back with you, now,” proposed Jennison, “to see what I can get out of him. You boys may as well come with me. It looks like a losing chase here. If we can get something out of the chap, Pedro, we’ll have something real to come back with.”