“Don’t let Torpedo leave Creek’s garage for any purpose.” This sentence in Phil’s telegram rang in Billy’s ears. What did it all mean? He looked at his watch. Ten-forty. Way and MacLester would arrive at eleven, he thought. Then, “Have you telephoned Port Greeley and other places to be on the lookout for Coster and the car?” The question was addressed to Fobes, pacing excitedly about, accomplishing nothing.
No, he had had no time, the policeman answered. Coster’s escape was not discovered until long after nine. There had been scarcely a chance to turn around before the theft of the Torpedo was also reported.
“You better be telephoning, perhaps,” Worth suggested. “We will meet that eleven o’clock train and, with the car to go in, maybe we can all help you some.”
* * * * *
Phil Way’s eyes glistened and he smiled with a delight so inexpressible he made no effort to put his thoughts into words. He had just read the telegram from Billy and Paul, handed him at the Syracuse Automobile club’s downtown quarters.
“Can it be true?” asked Dave in wonder. “Why don’t they—where was the car and—”
“Course it’s true!” cried Phil joyously. “But I do think they might have spent four or six cents more to tell us something about it. They kept right down to ten words all right!”
MacLester was for starting to Griffin at once. “But we can’t,” Way remonstrated. “We’ve got to stay by Mr. Rack and don’t you remember—half that reward?”
However, the two boys did hurry away immediately to Mr. Bob Rack’s office. He was out. The stenographer said he would return soon and the lads waited.
Detective Rack appeared greatly pleased with the telegram from Billy and Paul. “A little more information might have helped us; still, perhaps, we do not need it,” said he. “We will all go to Griffin this evening. Would you wire your friends there to meet us at—” he paused and glanced into a book of time-tables—“to meet us at the train due there at eleven o’clock?”