"He's turned in," Bill Dean said in a tone of conviction.
"If it's with that chum of yourn it ought'er be easy to find him."
"He wasn't a chum of mine, an' I don't so much as know his name. It's a feller I've run across two or three times down-town, that's all."
"Then I can't see but what we must call it a bad job, for there's no kind of use in foolin' 'round here any longer."
"But if we don't find him now all Sam Barney's got to do is to walk over here in the mornin'," Dan said mournfully, and Bill Dean cried emphatically:
"I'll get ahead of that bloomin' detective if I have to set up all night! You can count on my bein' right here at daylight, an' that's the best anybody can do. You ought to get to bed, Seth, 'cause you've got to turn out pretty early in the mornin'."
That it was useless to remain in that vicinity any longer with the hope of meeting Jip by chance, all understood, and mournfully they turned their faces homeward, Teddy Bowser suggesting that he might be able to do the repentant firebug a friendly turn by delaying Sam a certain length of time next morning.
"I'll ask him to tell me about his detective work, an' you can bet he won't lose such a chance, 'cause there's nothin' in this world he likes to talk about as well as himself."
"All right, you do that, Teddy, an' I'll snoop over here," Bill added. "Of course Seth can't take a hand in this work, on account of havin' to go to headquarters, but Dan will kind-er lay 'round anywhere, either to head Sam off, or find Jip."
Then Teddy Bowser took his departure for the night, and Mrs. Hanson's three lodgers returned to their room thoroughly distressed in mind.