"Hello, Jack, heard anything from Bob yet?" asked Will.
"No, not yet."
"Well, let us know when you do. So long."
Jack wasn't sure, but it seemed to him that there was a half sneer to Will's voice, and that both Fred and Will had an uneasy look about them.
"Say, dad," he asked after he had removed the cell from the motor and put it in his pocket, "did you notice anything strange about those fellows."
"Strange, what do you mean?" asked his father.
"I hardly know, but somehow, I feel it in my bones, that they've had a hand in this business. Look here," and reaching his hand into his back pocket, he pulled out a small knife which he handed to his father, saying, "I found that about thirty feet from the spring this forenoon. It is not rusted any to speak of, so it couldn't have been there long."
"Do you know whose it is?" asked his father.
"I'm not sure," replied Jack, "but I've seen Will Jenkins use a knife which looked a good deal like this one. I'd have asked him about it, only I didn't think of it in time."
"You be sure and tell the detective about it," said Mr. Golden. "Of course it doesn't prove anything, as there are probably lots of knives just like it in town."