“That’s so,” agreed Rick, with an uneasy glance at the dark and brush-choked entrance to the cavern. “If Ruddy was here he could soon tell.”
“But if he went in they might shoot him.”
“That’s right. I’m glad we didn’t bring him. Say, we’d better go back and tell the sheriff about this.”
“Sure we had,” assented the other lad. Pausing only long enough to walk around the car again, and to make sure that most, if not all of their belongings were there, the boys hurried back through the woods, across the fields and to the place where they had alighted from the trolley car. They were lucky enough to see coming the very electric vehicle they had taken out from Fayetville.
“You didn’t stay long at the cave,” remarked the conductor, who was on his return trip.
“No, but we found something,” said Rick, and they told their story.
“You’d better telephone in when we get to Roseland,” suggested the trolley man, naming the nearest village. “Then you can wait and take the sheriff right to the place.”
It seemed sound advice and the boys followed it. The sheriff was astonished and, in a measure, disappointed at the news. Astonished because no one of his officers had thought of looking in the direction of the cave, and disappointed because it was evident that the robbers had escaped. They had probably fled when the car overturned, injuring one of them, if not more.
“Unless maybe they’re in the cave,” suggested Rick over the telephone.
“We’ll soon find that out,” said the sheriff grimly.