“They were after that fellow who kidnapped Jack,” Bob said.
“You see,” Jack broke in, “he’s a noted counterfeiter, known by the name of Jim the Penman.”
“If it isn’t just like a detective story. Do you suppose they’ll get him?”
“Don’t see why they shouldn’t,” Bob said as he picked up the paddle.
“You going fishing? And you wasn’t going to take me? Now you just wait one second till I get my rod,” and she was off up the path before either could offer to go for her.
They did not go far as it was nearly time for supper and they had each caught one trout, Helen’s being by far the largest, when the sound of the horn told them that they must hurry back as Jacques did not like it if anyone was late for a meal.
During the meal Helen’s tongue ran, as Jack afterward told Bob, like a bell clapper, telling her parents how she had just missed seeing and talking to a real live detective.
“I wouldn’t have missed it for worlds,” she pouted.
“I hope they get him,” Mr. Sleeper declared. “I have heard a good deal about him and he is a very dangerous man. I shall not feel easy in my mind until I know that he has been captured. To think that he should be away up here in the woods of Maine. That detective must have made it pretty hot for him in the city to have driven him out.”
They sat on the little porch of the Sleeper’s cabin later than usual that night discussing the events of the day and it was after eleven o’clock before the boys said good night and went to their cabin.