As soon as she drew near, Florence burst out excitedly, “Our car’s stolen!”
Jo Ann’s and Peggy’s eyes stretched to their widest, and their lower jaws dropped.
Jo Ann was the first to recover from the shock. “Our car’s stolen! Why, who could’ve——Oh, it must’ve been the smugglers!”
“I’m sure it was,” Florence replied. “The newsboy described one of them exactly—the taller one.”
Peggy gasped audibly. “That settles it, then.”
“He hit the boy—knocked him down—then they drove off in our car.”
“I don’t understand why the smuggler should’ve hit the boy,” put in Jo Ann bewilderedly. “What’d the boy have to do with the affair?”
Florence and Peggy exchanged glances, then Florence answered, “I hired the boy to watch our car while we went to the market. The lock on the car wouldn’t work. I’m to blame.”
“Oh—I’m beginning to see now.” The bewildered expression on Jo Ann’s face slipped away, and a look of determination took its place. “We’ve got to get our car back right away.” She drew her brows together into a little frowning line of concentration.
“Hadn’t we better report it to the police?” Peggy asked.