“Oh, what a fool I was,” Bob groaned. “After all we’ve been through to keep those cells out of his hands to go and leave it there for him to take.”
“What’ll we do?”
“What can we do? He’s got it and goodness knows where he is now. Of course we’ll report it at the police station, but I doubt if it’ll do much good. He’s tried too hard to get hold of one of those cells to make any false moves now that he’s got it.”
Too downhearted to finish their dinner they paid their bill and a few minutes later were giving a description of the man who, they believed, had taken the cell, to the chief of police.
“I know the man,” the chief assured them. “He escaped from prison about a year ago and not a trace of him was found. Are you sure it was he?”
“Absolutely,” Bob replied. “Of course he’s changed a lot and I doubt if many would recognize him, but you see I got to know him pretty well and I’m sure I couldn’t have been mistaken.” And he told the officer about the time when King had kidnapped him and had tried to force him to disclose the secret of the cell.
“We’ll do our best to catch him of course,” the chief promised. “Leave your address and if we get him I’ll let you know.”
“It’s a pretty slim chance that they’ll catch him,” Bob said gloomingly as they left the station house.
“But I’m banking on that chance so cheer up, old man. It’s never so bad, but that it might be worse, you know,” Jack grinned as he hopped to his saddle.
They had nearly reached Brunswick, a small town some twenty miles from Portland and were riding side by side when Bob spied an automobile in the middle of the road some distance ahead.