“What for?” demanded Pete, pausing in the darkness, and gazing first toward the disappearing red light and then toward where his brother stood.
“You can’t catch an auto, no matter if you are a good base runner,” replied the older Smith lad. “Come here.”
“That’s right, I guess there isn’t much use running,” admitted Pete dubiously, as he slowly returned.
“But they’ve got Bill, and we ought to help him. Maybe they’ll hold him for a ransom.”
“It’s only a joke,” decided Cap. “Come on, we’ve got to use our brains against these fellows, and maybe we can turn the tables on them. First we’ll go on to town, and see if any of them really are at the hotel. We may get a line on them there.”
But there was no trace of any one at the hostelry who might, by any stretch of the imagination, be considered as of those who had a part in the kidnapping.
“Back to school,” ordered Cap. “We’ll see if there’s anything doing there.”
It did not take long to learn that no hazing was going on that night, and that none of the various school societies were engaged in any pranks, and when it was made clear that neither Mersfeld nor North had been out of their rooms, they were absolved from the half-suspicion that pointed to them.
“But Bill’s gone,” said Pete blankly.
“Yes, and it’s up to us to find him,” decided Cap. “I guess to-morrow—”