“The watchmaker across the way keeps spectacles,” answered the druggist. “But if he can fit you or not I don’t know.”
“I’ll try him,” said the man, and started for the door.
“Excuse me,” put in Frank, stepping up. “What sort of spectacles did you drop?”
“Did you find them?”
“Perhaps I did.”
“Mine were in a silver case. They are thick glasses, with a gold frame.”
“Then these must be yours,” and Frank drew the case from his pocket and passed it over.
“They are mine!” cried the burly man, and looked well pleased to have his property returned to him. “Where did you find them?”
“In the grass between the wreck and the creek. I was down at the creek getting some water for my father, who was hurt. I almost stepped on the case.”
“I see. So your father was hurt. Which one was he?”